Clockwork
by Alicia Marianne
Summary: He was not a savior, he was a heartless killer. She escaped one Hell to fall into his. And all he wanted was to take her apart, see what made her tic, so he could break her again and again... 'Origins' Victor Creed/OC
1. Two worlds

Okay, so this is set in the six years between when Wolverine left Stryder's team in 'Origins' and when Silver Fox was killed. I am of course using that movie's version of Victor Creed as the other versions are terribly tacky and disappointing.

I wrote this on a day I had nothing else to do and I'm not quite sure where I'm heading with this yet. Tell me what you think, because I want to see if this has a good start to it. AND BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY this is not going to be a mushy-romance think where Victor ends up saving a poor little girl. I don't believe in that. I believe in Victor as an animal and killer. Thank you and enjoy.

Disclaimer: If I could have Victor Creed and have him all to myself then I would, but unfortunately I don't own him or any of the X-men and I have to learn to live in that sad reality.

(0)

'Stupid city' He thought, clenching and unclenching his clawed fists in an aggravated motion. His dark eyes glared around the street as he passed it in long strides, his dark coat fluttering behind him in the cool night wind. People passed him hurriedly, very few daring to make eyes contact and those who did, regretting it quickly when bared fangs accompanied that singular, shadowy gaze.

Victor Creed was in a terribly dark mood having spent way too much time surrounded on a daily basis by the fucking frails of the _city of sins_.

'City of stench suits this fucking place better.' He swore inwardly, roughly pushing a drunk man aside. He heard a protest from the startled frail and briskly turned around with a hungry growl erupting from his broad chest.

The man was obviously not a stupid drunk, as he lowered his gave immediately, catching a glimpse of Creed's razor-sharp claws and slunk away into the dark confines of another bar. He had obviously better to do than to die on this night.

Victor resumed his walk, trying hard to ignore the scents all around him that were putting him on edge. Everything from the thick, sweet smell of fear, to the lush one of sex and the brutal scent of anger seemed to put his nerves on edge. He had come to this overcrowded hellhole named Las Vegas only days ago on a random need to get away from his daily life in solitude and was now regretting his sudden choice. All these various odors, usually so enthralling and amusing, were now almost pushing him to do something stupid and public, and he knew he had to keep a low profile if he didn't want to attract unwanted attention.

It had been a long time since he'd hunted anything at all, especially a frail, considering that at the moment he was not requested for any government-related eliminations, and had within him a growing hunger to maim, shred, hurt and rape something alive. Worst of all, he did not know by what stupid means he had chosen this exact city (except maybe for the obvious fact that disappearances and deaths here were a daily and common thing), as he had always hated being around too many people. He'd much rather find a small, lost little frail somewhere in the mountains up north, near one of the places where he lived, and track it through the snow and storms until the terrified creature was caught, but unfortunately, small lost little frails were always scarce in the high mountains and he had nothing else to keep him busy while he waited for one to show up.

Still, he could have chosen a better place and he knew it.

But since he was already there, in a wonderfully annoying murdering rage, he might as well make the best of it. It was with a fang-revealing smirk that Victor Creed moved through the bright streets into the darker outskirts of the city, where hunting would be so much easier… and a lot more fun.

(0)

Her hands were tightly bound behind her back with nothing less than steel chains, which were connected to the cold, stone wall by a single foot of another chain, keeping her standing up at all times. She believed to be standing up for three days now, although she was kept in semi-darkness, illuminated by a light bulb so filthy it didn't really shed any light, at all times and could only hear brief sounds from the outside to try and figure out how much time passed. She knew her owner was a fairly rich, known man and that he hosted parties once a night with other fairly rich men right beyond that door that stood only three yards away from her… she had heard three such parties start and end, so she figured three days must have passed.

Her whole body was frozen and numb, her shoulders had just recently stopped being raw and painful from the way they were pulled back by her binds, her legs were only a mass of tiered, feeless tissues and her hunger had turned from a piercing pain to a dull growl. The rest of her hurt body throbbed from time to time where she carried bruises and her mind was wrapped in a thick fog from the long lack of sleep. She hasn't rested properly since she'd been bound in the back room, obviously, because it was very hard to got any sleep when you were constantly standing.

She had tried to shut her eyes and rest herself against the wall to dream a little and recuperate, but right before being locked up her owner had savagely whipped her until her back and ass bled freely, so just making that skin graze the cool wall was like tearing at her wounds with her fingernails. For the moment, however, that pain had subsided and she figured the wounds must had closed up a little. She couldn't feel any blood running down the back of her legs anymore, at least…

The girl shivered, wishing briefly she could have a cloth to cover her naked body with. It was cold in the backroom, the March chilliness crawling in through every crack and even though Las Vegas was situated in the bloody desert, its night was not kind. But she sighed, knowing no such kindness would be given to her. If she was already back here for three days, it was because her owner did not need her and when he would, be it a week from now or an hour, she would rapidly find herself wishing she was still bound to the cold stone wall.

The girl looked down in defeat, but in her frozen little heart, she could still feel the beats of fury. She was not broken yet, damnit!

(0)

His back resting against the shadowy building, Victor kept his eyes closed and a smirk on his strong face. He had finally reached the darkest part of town, where the smells were far more arousing than they had been in brightness of Las Vegas. The animal within him was boiling under his skin, keen to be let out and wreck havoc, but Creed kept a grip on it, knowing his prey was very close by. As a matter of fact, he could hear her coming.

The rhythmic tap of her high-healed shoes was the only sound on the street and she turned the corner quickly enough, passing the hidden feral without seeing him. Her smell almost made him loose control, carrying delicious scents of fear, anger, depression and sex. She had not been with a man yet tonight, having recently gotten up to get to the strip club where she worked; he could smell it and grinned at that realization. He did not particularly enjoy fucking something that had been recently used.

Victor stepped out of the shadows without a sound.

"What're you doing out so late and… alone?" He purred just loud enough for her to hear him, feet away.

The young woman spun around, nearly falling, an enthralling wave of terror spilling from her skin as her heart hammered beneath her fake breasts. She looked started and unsure, standing insecurely in those high-healed boots, tight little skirt that showed too much leg and tiny shirt that didn't leave much to anyone's imagination.

"I… I don't see how that's any of your business…" She took a step back when Creed took one forward, devouring her with his eyes. She was used to being looked at naked, but somehow, the way he watched her made her blush and want to flee. He was dangerous, she knew, and no one was around to protect her.

"I'll make sure it's my business soon enough, frail." He answered lowly; a deep rumble fleeing from is chest at the end of his sentence.

The girl didn't bother to say anything else, she just turned and ran as fast as she could go on those skimpy high heals. But even if she had been an athletic runner, she wouldn't have stood a chance against Creed, who caught up with her in two jumps and plunged his long claws into her arm, pulling her back. She opened her mouth to scream, but his hand was already covering it, forcing the sound to die in her throat.

He turned her to face him, pulling them both into the shadows between two building and pressing her to the hard wall with so much force she momentarily lost her breath. He used those seconds of shock to move his mouth right to the side of her head and bite her neck just enough to make her bleed.

"Shut up and listen." He growled ad she did not dare make a sound. "Tonight's your lucky night. I usually let my frails run around for sometime to make a good chase and let them think they can get away from me, but tonight I lack the patience to go through that. It means that whatever I'll do to you will be quick and painful before you die."

He pulled back and caught a look of small relief in her eyes. She did not want this to go on forever, having accepted that she would die anyway. But the wicked grin he sent at her a second later made all hope vanish from her face.

"Or maybe, since I haven't had much fun with a frail recently, I just might drag this out to keep me busy…"

With that said he bit hard on her mouth to muffle her scream of terror as he pushed his body against hers to show her just how much this was turning him on.

(0)

The door in front of her burst open with a loud bag and she looked up from behind her veil of dirty, dark hair into the light that was blinding her. She could make out the form of a man, but had no idea who it was.

"Had time to rest, bitch?" A low voice demanded in an amused tone.

'Oh, that's who it is.' She thought bitterly, recognizing her owner's tone. She thought it more prudent to keep her mouth shut rather than to yell obscenities at the man and earn some other, terrible treatment. He was neither smart nor imaginative, but God, was he resourceful!

"Answer me when I ask you a question, you stupid fuck!" He crossed the room in a single stride and backhanded her right on the cheek with a force that shook her fogged brain violently. The smell of him, sweat, booze and forced sex hit her nose violently and helped her gather her bearings.

She groaned, holding back her cry of pain and kept her eyes down. She had no idea at this point what would be the smarted answer to give to the man without earning more pain.

"Y… yes, I've had time to rest." She muttered.

Another blow caught her on the other side of her face and she chocked back tears this time as her skin burned fiercely. Anger flooded all her senses and she could hear her heart hammering in her ears.

"What did I tell you to call me?" The man demanded in a furious snarl.

The girl gritted her teeth and clenched her fists behind her back. "Master." She said the word quickly and spitefully.

The man grinned, showing uneven rows of dirty teeth. He moved closer to her, invading her space with his body as well as his stench and grabbed her under the chin to force her to lock her gaze with his. Her eyes remained narrowed and angry, while his were evilly amused.

"I will break you, bitch. And when I do, you'll be begging for more and screaming my name." He crooned. His mouth pressed to hers and she fought back a gag reflex, quite certain that he wouldn't appreciate a load of bile directly to his throat. When he released her, she did not dare breathe from fear of being sick all over the floor.

He turned and walked towards the door, stopping on the threshold. "Here are the keys to you chains. Get yourself free and cleaned in the bathroom next door. I have friends coming over in an hour and I want my pet presentable."

He threw the keys at her feet, on the ground, and glanced at her: his eyes had taken on a cynical, dark tint.

"And if you aren't ready in an hour, expect there to be a lot of pain."

The door slammed shut, leaving her alone in semi-darkness.

(0)

Tell me what you think!! Review please!


	2. Fright and flight

God, I feel like writing this story so bad!!

Thanks for the reviews, I hope to get more soon.

(0)

'Fucking Christ that felt good!' Victor smirked, still hearing the lonely whore's screams in his ears. He had let her scream at long last, after muting her for safety reasons for far too long. He was not one to stop a frail's natural instinct to evacuate terror, but when he didn't want to get caught by the wrong people, he had no choice but to silence his preys. But fuck, it just wasn't the same when the terror didn't fill the night endlessly, in hopes of being heard, when there was not a chance to be saved.

He gazed down at the bright city, having returned to the center of Las Vegas, atop one of the high hotels, now that he was calmer. It felt good to empty himself into a frail female and then rip her to shreds to calm his hunger for pain. The smells of the city that had previously assaulted him and nearly drove him insane were now just a pleasurable ambiance that accompanied his fulfilled gaze as it scouted the building tops.

Creed felt a hell of a lot better, but somehow unsatisfied all the same. His prey had been quickly selected and eliminated all too fast, even though he had promised her lengthy pain. He reviewed her terrified face again and again in his mind but with each time, figured that he could have done this and that better. He could have pushed her further over the edge, he could have made her beg for him after her terror had given place to humiliating desire, he could have broken her… but he had needed bloodshed more than anything to calm his fierce spirit.

'Damn.' He swore silently. 'It wasn't enough.'

And what the hell? The night was young and he wasn't planning on leaving Vegas until the sun rose, so he had time to kill… might as well fulfill his desires fully before retiring to loneliness.

He vanished off the roof of the hotel like a ghost, returning to the darker, more dangerous side of the city to find more fun for himself. He traveled in unseen leaps and had but one thought in his head:

Victor Creed was not one to deny himself a desire. He always got whatever the fuck he wanted.

(0)

She fought for just some fifteen minutes with the keys at her feet. She was thankfully smart and agile, and was used to getting out of tight spots. She managed to use her numb legs and feet to grab a hold of the keys and eventually brought them up to her locked hands, from there it took her but a moment to reach the lock that bound her wrists and undo it with skillful hands.

The longest and worst part was the one during which blood finally returned to her exhausted limbs. It took her a moment of just laying on the floor and doing nothing but ignoring the singing pain that gnawed at her body while she felt time slip by, so short and precious. She knew her owner was a punctual man no matter what and that he wasn't kidding when he said she had just an hour to be ready to meet his so-called friends. Just one minute of lateness could cost her more than she could handle.

And she had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of hurting her publicly.

When she was able to move again without crying out in pain, the girl got up gingerly. She made her way to the door and pulled it open gently, trying to fight the strong light that blinded her. She entered the adjacent a room, a sort of large living room filled with expensive and comfortable chairs and couches and walked through it rapidly, touching the furniture she had learned to know by heart, marching through to the nearby bathroom.

Once there, she set the dimmer to it's lowest setting and walked over to the shower. The bathroom was huge and luxurious, with a large bathtub, a separate shower and adorned sink with a giant mirror over it. She did not dare look at herself, knowing she had not washed her wounded body in days and that she probably looked hideous beyond recognition. The worst part of this hell was not the beatings (which she took with a pang of anger), or the humiliation, but to watch her body thin gradually and fight to heal wound over wound as exhaustion gripped at her very soul and she stuttered on the edge of insanity.

She shook her head; she didn't want to think about all this now. She wanted to focus on washing herself and feeling clean for the first time in weeks, on that short moment of peace she could find in all this horror. Damn, she needed this to recuperate for real, to strengthen herself so she could support another week of assaults and pull out of it…

The girl ran her small, bony hands over her jutting hipbones, feeling her bruised stomach and ribs that had become visible through her skin. Her ankles and wrists had become so fragile that they seemed ready to break at any moment and she could not ignore her too-obvious collarbone as it stuck too much, bruised as well.

How long had she been here? She could not remember for sure, but it was a pretty long time. Months probably… and how much longer would she stay here? A shiver ran down her back as that thought invaded her mind, and she fought to push it away…

Time was money, as they said, and the shower ended up being shorter than what she really needed. She was truthfully afraid of taking longer than expected, knowing that she would pay with her blood for taking more than an hour.

Christ, how she hated that man! He called himself her owner and was no less… he had paid for her body and had claimed her soul, hurting her, humiliating her, threatening her in all ways possible, calling her as his own, his object… but for the least of things, he had never fucked her.

It was not from a lack of trying, because he had indeed tried. Many times. But he was getting old, reaching the other half of fifty, drinking too much and collecting too many diseases from the whores he had once screwed. She was still thanking God daily that he wasn't able to get it up long enough to take the remains of her pride away. And she had never been a real Christian, so praying with all her heart and soul seemed to affect the Lord above with more strength than expected.

She was drying her long raven hair when the bathroom door burst open loudly. She jumped slightly, nervously hiding herself behind the small towel as she gazed at her owner's fiendish face, wishing only to vanish from the face of the earth. He grinned sickly at her embarrassment and gestured to the living room behind him. She heard the sounds of conversation drifting in and realized that the invited had already arrived… she had taken too much time…

"Took you a little over an hour… a little too much time for my taste." He moved closer and she instantly backed up until she felt a wall behind her sore back. But he didn't come and closer.

"Well come on, pet. My guests are waiting to get a good look at you." His eyes scanned her in a way that made her want to rip everything around her to shreds. She hated him and feared him so intensely it almost made her heart burst.

"I… I'm not wearing anything." She mumbled, looking away.

He strode to her rapidly and she flinched, expecting a blow. "You don't need to." He simply pulled something out from behind his back, dangling it before her face. "You'll just need this."

In his hand hung a spiked, leather dog color and matching leash. She felt like killing him, but silently accepted the humiliation when it was wrapped tightly around her neck. With a yank strong enough to bruise her sensible skin, he pulled her behind him into living room full of people.

(0)

Creed strode through the dark street, which was slightly more animated now than it had been when he first found his whore, only a couple hours ago. He crossed a couple alluring mutant prostitutes with odd-color skin (probably shifters) and a few frail ones as well, who's very souls turned to liquid fear when he crossed their eyes.

His broad stature was hard to miss and easy to impress and when adding with his feral way of moving, very few were stupid enough to think him harmless. This was all too helpful when he needed to find himself something to hunt, because the most compelling thing that made him go into a frenzy of animal desire was the fear he produced in frails.

However, this time as he strode without a goal until he found the suiting type of terror, it was not the smell of fright that attracted his attention. It was the smell of fury.

A burning, silent anger mixed with crushing humiliation and a pang of animal fear buried deep beneath all that… something within him stirred, deliciously turning him on… he wanted whatever produced that smell, and he wanted it now.

Creed stopped for a moment and sniffed at the air… the odor was coming from a building across the street and it took him only a glance to understand that it was some sort of strip club that shunned mutants. It was written all over it, from the big, male bouncers at the front door to the pure, simple smell of frails inside. And what he wanted was in there at that very moment.

He smirked. 'Looks like they're about to get their first and last mutant guest in a while.'

(0)

They pointed and laughed and murmured and insulted her. They would have spat at her if there wouldn't be a risk of damaging the expensive leather armchairs and Persian rugs in the room. But their words were more than enough to make her grit her teeth and wish she was dead, instead of standing in that room full of pure-blood humans, stark naked, with a collar and leash around her frail neck.

"Look at the disgusting half-breed…"

"I heard her mother was a whore hated by the mutants themselves…"

"Her poor father must have been tricked by that horror of a mother she had."

"And she even _looks_ like us. As if we can't smell her filthy mutant blood a mile away!"

She shut her eyes tightly to fight back her tears. What the hell did these fucking humans know about her anyways? They didn't know anything about the truth, and they still judged and she could not defend herself. But if she allowed a single word to peep out of her mouth, she would pay a lot for it… and they would enjoy watching her be in pain.

"Now, now!" Her owner interfered with a happy voice. She bit her lip, knowing this was far from being a good sign. "Why just spit these terribly true words at her when we can actually make her feel what disgust she causes in all of us!"

The girl wanted to roar and run for her life, once and for all. Go anywhere but where she was right now, because she knew that what was about to happen would be painful and humiliating beyond what she could endure.

And she was right.

Pulling on her leash, her owner dragged her to the center of the room, and she took a moment to glance at the chain that dangled from the ceiling and the one that lay coiled on the ground like a snake, attached to a metal ring in the ground. She had already been bound by these several times for a good whipping, but it was either in presence of her owner alone or of one or two of his business partners… it had never been done to her when the room was filled with at least twenty people…

She wanted to die! Right there and right now, if her heart could fail from exhaustion and malnutrition, she would be thankful beyond anything!

'Pleasepleasepleaseplease…' She begged mentally, feeling the chain on the ceiling being attached to the front of her collar and the one on the ground to the back of it. Her hands were unhindered and she could break free at any time, but it was obvious that she would not go far and would regret soon enough trying to run.

"A good whipping should make her remember just how low she is when compared to humans!" Her owner hissed right behind her. She felt her heart clench in fear as her body tightened, already expecting the unbearable pain…

'Don't think of fear, damn you! Get angry, get furious, don't show them how fucking scared this makes you!' She thought fiercely, clenching her teeth tightly. She felt fury bind her heart like venom and clenched her fists as tightly as she would.

Angry tears finally spilled out of her shut eyes. 'Stupid fuckers are taking this out on me because I don't have any fucking powers… they wouldn't stand a second against an actual mutant…'

The whip made a cruel, whistling sound as it broke through the air and landed heavily across her back and ass. She hissed her pain and grabbed her chains with all her strength, desperate not to let out a single cry. The crowd chuckled lightly, amused by her inner fight.

The whip flew through the air again and hit her over her lower back, sending needles of pain into her very fingertips. Old wounds opened up again and she felt warm blood running down her legs and pooling on the floor… she'd probably get beaten later for staining the fucking Persian carpet.

The third blow was about to be given when the living room door flew open, a young man running in without even taking the time to knock or announce his presence. She glanced his way through tear-blurred eyes, thankful for the intrusion. He was out of breath and didn't have the time to say a word before the girl's owner stepped towards him angrily, clutching the whip.

"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded furiously.

The man stopped panting for a second. "A mutant just made his way in."

There was a second of startled silence during which no one moved.

"That can't be! Those animals know they have no business coming anywhere near here!" Her owner snarled, marching towards the door. At that very moment, several terrified screams erupted from the rooms beneath the one they were all in, on the first floor. The guests shifted nervously, holding to their drinks with both hands and looking at each other.

A heartbeat of silence passed and…

The floor right next to the bound girl exploded, sending shards of wood and carpet and a thick layer of dust flying everywhere and allowing a very large form to leap into the room with heavy grace. Panic erupted instantly and everyone went running in every direction as the newly arrived form leapt with growls and snarls and sent humans flying everywhere.

The girl didn't waste a second, undoing her chains and running off towards the door like a bolt of lightning. Her mind was blank as she tried to ignore her burning back, which on top of everything was now covered in dust and plaster. Humans pushed past her, some pulling at her hair and arms to throw her back to the room as some kind of offering to the terrible mutant that had just entered it.

"Oh no you don't!" She bellowed, kicking a man behind her as he made a grab for her wrists to hold her in place. Her lungs filled with the thick, dusty air and she coughed, but the man fell back and she was able to keep fleeing.

She nearly killed herself going down the stairs in the havoc, had enough mind to grab a fallen piece of clothing she spotted laying on a tall, potted plant, before pushing her way savagely to the door and into the cool night air.

For someone who had been starved and beaten for months, she found that she was still very strong in the face of danger, especially when freedom was just around the corner, and that proved very useful: the whole street was alight with terrified humans and mutants and she saw quickly enough that guns were being pulled out as well as all sorts of special powers and that a battle was imminent. Her muscles burned, her ankles cracked with every step she took and her back stung like a bitch, but she kept moving.

She wasn't the only one running stark naked, being surrounded by other strippers and prostitutes, so she wasn't too obvious in the panicked crowd. But when she glanced over her shoulder, she felt her heart freeze for a second upon spotting the frighteningly furious face of her owner looking right at her. He didn't waste a second and broke into a run right behind her, throwing her into a terrified frenzy.

The girl knew she didn't stand a damned chance in hell… she was small, hurt and frail and he was a tall, grown man… she would never outrun him and that realization brought angry tears to her eyes as she plunged hopelessly into a dark alley.

'I'm going to fucking kill myself before I let that asshole catch me!' She thought desperately, hearing his pounding footsteps closing in on her. She risked a quick glance over she shoulder to evaluate how close he was and saw at that very moment a big, dark shape leap from behind her owner and right onto him.

The startled man collapsed instantly under the big figure with a cry of pain and the girl flipped around, stopping momentarily, wondering what was going to happen now. She could not make out who the figure was, but could clearly see that it was a large, strongly build man with broad shoulders and short hair. She heard a low rumble and realized it was coming from him!

He raised a hand, she saw the outline of long claws at the tip of his fingers, and was already running in the opposite direction when those weapons plunged into her owner's back. He died with a strangled gurgle, but she was long gone, fear giving her wings.

Creed rose from the man he had just eliminated and looked towards the end of the alley where the girl had vanished, her lush, enthralling smell acting as a beacon to wherever she was headed.

"Time to play." He grinned wickedly, fangs showing.

(0)

Okay, so this was so much fun to write yay!

Plot will thicken when its time comes, but for now I'm just building a foundation for this story.

Sorry if I'm taking long to actually start it up, but I'm going to try and make it as interesting as I can!

Review please!


	3. Of psychos

Wheee thanks for all the reviews, I'm very happy to see you guys like this story. I've finally formed some kind of plot for this in my head, so now we are heading somewhere! Yay!

Here we go then!

(0)

She ran, bare feet pounding the shadows, trying to stay out of anyone's sight and keeping to the alleys. She kept going like a gust of wind until all breath was out of her lungs and her whole body screamed mercy, driven far beyond what it could endure. And when she couldn't go any further, she collapsed in a heap behind a dumpster, still wearing nothing at all, silent tears falling from her eyes more from the pain in her back than from anything else.

Exhaustion gripped her very soul and she lay there for a moment, trying to compose herself, as her body shivered in response to the chilly night air… she remembered vaguely grabbing a hold of some clothing on her way out of her (late) owner's bar, and realized that she was still holding it tightly in her hand.

Pulling herself up with a sniff, she smoothed out the cloth and saw it was a dark, large man's t-shirt, reeking of sweat and alcohol but wearable all the same. She slid into it slowly, hissing as it rubbed against her sore back and felt it cling to her fresh wounds. Slowly, she stopped shivering and was able to rise while holding on to a brick wall, coming to stand on shaky legs.

The girl looked down at herself, noting the shirt reached several inches above her knees, and stood there for a moment, wondering what exactly she was to do now… she had spent a lot of time in captivity, after all… she realized that she no longer had that long-acquired survival instinct of hers…

She ran skeletal finger through her black, tangled mane of hair and shut her eyes, slowing her breathing. Before becoming a slave to her owner, she had been a vandal… for a long time. All she needed was to gather her bearings and remember how it used to be back then when she often ran away from home, from her abusive, human father and maniac-depressive mutant mother…

Her instinct did not return in those few moments of silence, but she knew that she had to keep moving. It felt as though she was still being chased, even though everyone now probably though her dead and that the only person who could have harmed her (her owner) was now quite dead. Thinking of him, she brought herself to remember the mutant who had assaulted the strip joint and felt a shiver grip her violently between the shoulders at the memory of him, his teal-gray eyes haunting her relentlessly… those dangerous, animal eyes…

She sighed and continued walking, slowly now to reduce the pain in her legs, holding her arms crossed over her chest. The girl walked out of they alley's shadows carefully onto an animated street, keeping her eyes down and trying to vanish into the crowd. Thankfully, Vegas was full of weirdoes and she didn't attract as much attention as she thought she would, slipping past people without touching anyone, stealing brief glances over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't followed… but why such paranoia? Sure, she's been hurt, beaten and humiliated for some time, but none of that could follow her now…

A man near her raised his hand and she flinched with a stifled cry, cringing away from him as if he were to hit her. He stared at her oddly and she shuffled away without another sound, bare feet slapping the cold ground. It felt so strange to be out in the open like this… and she felt so naked… an strong sense of unease twisted her stomach, almost making her retch.

She glided past a souvenir stand like a ghost and grabbed a pair of shorts and flip-flops, making them vanish with skilled, thin hands beneath her large shirt. No one saw her and around the next street bend, she pulled the small shorts on (they didn't show past her t-shirt, but she felt less exposed) and slipped into the cheap sandals that read _City of Sin_ on the sole, feeling a lot less out of place.

Before walking off, she stole a glance over her shoulder.

She immediately saw the tall man a few yards behind, as he was standing at least a foot taller than most people in the crowd, making his way easily forward, imposing stature discouraging anyone from opposing him. His hair was cut short, like army men often had it and he had a dark beard covering his square jawbone.

Her heart stopped beating when his steal-gray eyes crossed hers.

(0)

Creed saw those delicious, light brown eyes widen in terror when she spotted and recognized him. He actually smelled the powerful wave of fear that rolled off her, even though many people stood between them, and it nearly drove him into getting to her in a single pounce to tear her to shreds when he remembered that the public havoc he had caused in the strip joint was probably more publicity than he needed.

Besides, she was _so _much fun to stalk, her useless, frail senses unable to detect him until he was almost looming over that tiny body of hers… he hadn't expected her to be that skinny, as a matter of fact. When he had caught her scent, he knew she was something feisty and strong and fun to mess around with… obviously, someone else had realized that as well, and had beaten him to it…

Victor Creed growled; she was _his_ now. No one was going to screw with her body and mind but him… And if the scrawny little thing had any fight left in her, he just might keep her alive long enough to make this all worthwhile.

(0)

She was fast, he would give her that. As soon as she had caught a glimpse of him, she had fled like the good prey she was meant to be, leaving a trail of… oh, not just fear (it was lacing other emotions, but minimally), but burning anger and desperation. Creed revealed fangs with a smirk when he realized she was determined not to get caught, no matter what… maybe she would even try to kill herself if he cornered her, and that would be just too much fun!

Poor little frail in distress would get saved from suicide by the big bad wolf, and he'd have so much more pleasure in breaking her false hopes. This was going to be an amazing night!

Creed turned the street corner, following her outstanding smell. He could tell that the wounds she had received from her whipping had closed a little and the scent of her fresh blood made his cock twitch in his pants as his eyes took on a feral glint. There were less people around him now so he broke into a faster pace, eager to catch her now.

She had slipped back into an alley between two tall buildings and he followed suit, catching a glimpse of her further away, now trotting in those little sandals she had snagged earlier. Through the darkness his animal eyes saw her clearly turn slightly and realize he was there. She instantly started to run.

He leapt like the predator he was, grabbing on to the walls and jumping off them at incredible speed, reaching her in seconds and dropping down heavily, right in front of her, to cut off her road.

She jumped back with a muffled cry, her body language and smell reading fear, but ready for a battle. That mane of dark, wild hair she had covered her eyes slightly, but he saw them glinting in anticipation… it only made his terrible grin bigger.

"Going somewhere, little girl?" He purred, moving forward. She glanced at the illuminated street just feet behind him and knew that she had no chance of slipping by him; she stepped back carefully. Those thin, endlessly long legs of hers were shaking.

"W-what do you want?" She tried to keep her voice even, but failed miserable.

Another step forward. "A nice, long chase."

She obliged very quickly, spinning around and darting off in the other direction. He let out a low growl, half amused and half annoyed, jumping after her. He reached her in two steps without much effort, grabbing her arm with his long talon fully extended, drawing fiery lines on her skin and sending her flying into a wall with a flick of his arm.

The girl landed on the ground with a grunt, biting her lip to hold back a cry of pain… the smell of her blood filled the air and he half-closed his eyes with a pleasured purr. His cock was getting hard, and he was starting to have trouble controlling his urges, desperate to rip that large shirt of her frail body and bite down all over her skin while he screwed her until she screamed…

"What the hell do you want from me?" He voice was unstable and groggy, and he could feel her conscience slipping away, so he crouched down in front of her, grabbed her wrists sharply and squeezed them. Bones shifted and tendons protested.

This time she didn't hold back her small cry of pain and her attention snapped fully back to him. They locked eyes for a moment and Creed was pleased to see that she was unable to support his darkening look. Instead, her gaze fell inadvertently between his legs, where she saw quite clearly the effect she was having on him as it was pressing against his pants. Her eyes widened for a moment.

"I think you can guess what I want from you, frail…" He smirked.

Creed saw her lip tremble for just a second, before she ripped her eyes back up to his face, showed her teeth aggressively and spat right at him. He blinked slowly, deliberately, breathing out very _very_ softly.

Nonetheless, a shot of powerful, demented fury gripped at him… _No one_ spat at him and walked away alive and unscathed, _no one_. He'd make it a pleasure of his to teach her some manners!

He grabbed her at the throat and lifted her up against the wall so fast it actually took her a moment to start chocking appropriately. She tried to push away his wrist with both delicate hands, but ceased as soon as his other clawed hand, bigger than a dinner plate, appeared before her eyes and his deadly claws slowly slipped out.

Creed's eyes were almost black from his fury and all anger was gone from the girl's smell… she was just brutal terror and pure fear, wave upon wave of it escaping her skin, washing over him and almost driving him over the edge. He showed off his fangs and she cringed, still fighting for breath.

"That was a stupid thing to do, girl." Creed's voice was remarkably even considering just how livid he was. "I don't think you know who you're dealing with."

She swallowed (or at least tried to). "K-kill… me…"

He scoffed softly, still bearing fangs and claws for her to appreciate just how frail she was when compared to him.

"Not a chance… at least not for now. You're a hell of a lot of fun to terrify, and I'm going to make it last until you don't have the breath to beg me to stop anymore… or beg me to keep going, depending on how many pieces of your soul will be broken…" Creed brought his face inches from hers and pressed his strong body against her feeble one. The smell of blood and death that he carried choked her more than his oversized hand around her tiny throat.

She realized she had escaped one psycho human to fall prey to a psycho mutant. And he was obviously a thousand times more imaginative than her owner had been.

(0)

He wasn't parked far away, so he sung his claws into her shirt and pulled her after him inconspicuously through darker streets all the way to his black, '68 Chevy Camaro SS. He wasn't much into cars, like Jimmy had been into motorcycles (the brief thought of the runt made him grit his teeth: his younger brother had left Team X only a year ago, without giving any news and he hated thinking of him), but he like that particular model and how it looked aggressive and powerful… much like him. The girl only struggled slightly, more as if she wanted to prove to herself that she wasn't going willingly rather than to actually run, and that amused him greatly. She didn't peep a word, looking down all the time.

They reached the large automobile and he popped open the trunk, throwing her in hard enough to dizzy her for a while.

"Hey-…" She protested for a second before he shut her in, cutting off sound and light.

Almost whistling in joy he popped into the driver's seat and brought the engine into a roar that broke the night air. Flooring the gas pedal, he departed the City of Sins feeling contempt and eager to get back to his reclusive home in the high Rocky Mountains.

(0)

She felt sick to her stomach from both the situation and the blow she had gotten to the head when she hit the inside of the car's trunk. The girl could feel the automobile vibrate and shake as they traveled the bumpy roads and she thought of her current situation.

The mutant stroke great, massive fear in her, but she knew she was strong and wasn't entirely ready to 'go silently', so to speak. And so to speak, she used her unbound hands to hit the top of the trunk loudly, all the while screaming in a cracked voice in hopes of being heard by someone. Panic grew in her, as she understood just in how much shit she was, and she began to fight more desperately to be saved.

The car came to a sudden, screaming halt and she shut up immediately, more terror building up inside of her. She almost regretted her actions when she heard the mutant open his door and step out, but instead of coming to her to inflict some sort of pain or fear, she simply heard his stride away in loud steps.

Panting, she remained like this in total darkness for what seemed like a very long time, not daring to move a single muscle. Time seemed to drag on endlessly, and she could hear nothing from the outside world… how fast had he driven in order to get out of the city so fast?!?

Then, after what seemed like hours, with a pang of dread, she heard his heavy footfalls coming back towards the car.

With the grinding sound of metal on metal he unlocked the trunk and she saw his evilly amused face when he opened it up, looming over her against the starry night.

"I figured you must have felt lonely, screaming like that. Brought you some company." He grinned, throwing something fairly large into the space she occupied, before closing her back in to figure out just what had happened.

She ran shaky fingers over the object that now lay near her, smelling its odd, thick scent and feeling a warm liquid running gently from it.

The mutant didn't even have time to start his car when her fingers caressed the thick, harsh fur of the thing he had thrown in and she started screaming, unable to control the gag reflex that forced bile out of her throat as she realized what she was touching.

She fought desperately to get as far away from the dead animal he had locked in with her, while he laughed boomingly from the driver's seat.

(0)

Ewww dead animals and stuff! Please leave me a review, as constructive as you can and tell me if you like this. The more reviews I get, the more I write, people!

And even if you don't have an account on fanfiction (or aren't logged in), review all the same! I love comments!


	4. Cold irony

Okay, so I decided to add a little poll at the end of every chapter to get your opinion on stuff, so go have a look at that when you're done! Your voice matters a lot to me, and I'm gonna need your help in determining a couple things for the story.

Anything I need to improve so far? Let me know. I'm thinking of writing another X-men story, set slightly earlier in this timeline and a lot less dark. Dunno what I'll do yet!

(0)

The girl tried not too fall into the demanding arms of sleep, even though she felt her body nearly begging her to give in. Everything hurt, especially her beaten back and her wrists, which the mutant had previously crushed; she needed time to recuperate so badly, but was so scared of what might happen in she let go of the conscious world… where would she end up?

Besides, the thick, sickening smell of the dead animal that accompanied her filled the confines of the trunk, gagging her even though she had pushed the thing into a corner with a foot and covered it with a stray cloth. She didn't know what it was exactly and honestly, lacked the curiosity and desire to find out. She was especially frightened of ending up like it: a stiffening, smelly and nameless thing locked in the mutant's trunk…

Regardless of what she had previously told him, she wasn't quite sure she wanted to die just yet… who knew if what waited for her on the other side wasn't worst than what she was enduring? Maybe her father had been right all those times he got drunk and yelled at her; maybe she would go to Hell for being the child of a mutant, and would suffer for ever at the hands of demons and monsters… that thought brought unexpected shivers to her spine, and she shut it off into a distant part of her mind.

She was used to fighting back memories, most of all those that concerned her life when she was confined with her family, unsupported by a terrified, weak mother and beaten senseless by an insane father. Gritting her teeth, she shifted all thoughts to the pain in her body, focusing intensely on it to block everything else out. She clenched her thinned arms around her chest to ward off the growing coldness of the air and even started to dig her fingernails into her skin to bring in more physical suffering and less mental pain.

But no tears fell from those wide, frightened and furious eyes of hers as she stared at the darkness.

(0)

He had to listen very carefully to actually make out her heartbeat and breathing in the closed trunk, trying to hear past the howling wind and loud music he had turned on a few miles back. Creed smirked when he sensed her heart rate accelerate in response to some form of anger, only wishing he knew what she was thinking about at that moment. Over the smell of the small, dead wolverine (oh, the irony!) he had thrown in there with her, he still caught the draft of her blood and fear and fury, making him floor the gas pedal every time it overcame him in hopes of getting home soon.

But the road was long, hours of desert loneliness still lying in front of him and Creed found himself wondering who exactly this frail was. He didn't even know the girl's name or age, although he situated her in her late teens, however, her famished body could have been older without him knowing it because of its appearance. Her bones jutted out like blades, sickly, pale skin clinging to vanishing muscles…

Emaciated, wounded, she obviously hadn't been nabbed out of a filthy rich family a month ago to be sold like an object to the owner of that strip joint back in Vegas. He could see in those big, light brown eyes that she held secrets even from herself and that the months she had spent as a pet to the man he had killed were only a prelude to what she had really lived.

Something about her screamed 'street frail', but he couldn't be sure. A strange scent also laced every other one she created, and it might take him a moment to understand exactly what it meant, but he had time… Victor smirked broadly, gripping the steering wheel of his Camaro with a wicked, clawed hand. He knew she was strong inside, needing a hell of a lot to make her break properly, the proof of that lying in her everlasting strength even though she'd been humiliated and hurt what seemed like countless times by her owner.

Up in the Rockies, miles away from civilization, he would have all the time he needed to mess with her mind, find what made her tick so he could take her apart piece by piece.

And maybe he'll even have enough time to learn her name…

(0)

The road was long and harsh and the loud music the mutant was listening to wasn't nearly enough to keep her eyes open.

She slipped into an agitated half-sleep before she could stop herself, oblivious to the cold that was starting to crawl into her bones like a messenger of death.

(0)

The trunk snapped open, letting in a little light and a lot of cold air and she caught a glimpse of dawn filtering though clouds and hills, far away still. Or was she dreaming?

The mutant man stood above her, as big and menacing as she remembered him, his features a lot clearer now… she tried to focus on them, tried to memorize them so when she ran away, she'd see him coming… she'd see him coming miles away, oh yes she would…

Why was she stiff like that? Everything hurt so much, even her mind seemed in pain, and a chill had seethed into her bones like nothing else could. She was a mass of numb pain…

She saw the man, vaguely, take off his long black coat to reveal a tank top that in its turn revealed powerful, muscular arms, before he threw the heavy clothing over her. She only heard his low chuckle, buried beneath the heavy cloth.

"Believe me, frail, I won't let you die of a natural death." His voice was like ice, cold ice… ice that was gliding off her body now that she was covered in that big coat.

A part of her mind tried to interfere, to warn her that she was in danger, that she should use this chance to escape, or at least spit at him and throw that piece of clothing off herself, but it was so _damn_ warm and she was so damn _tiered._

The trunk closed with a bang and his low chuckle followed her into even odder dreams.

(0)

He drove through the rest of Nevada and passed quickly through Utah, heading as directly north as he could… he didn't remember the road to Vegas, a couple days earlier, being so _damn_ long… maybe it was because he was getting more and more eager to get home to enjoy his catch…

Creed stopped briefly near the highway at a restaurant to grab a bite to eat and calm his raging stomach. The girl stayed asleep the whole time, her breathing even and stable, and he didn't bother to wake her up. As skinny as she was, he didn't feel like having her sick in the trunk of his car and on his coat because she couldn't hold in solid food, especially since she'd vomited bile after seeing the dead wolverine… if she was really hungry, she could always eat that, he figured with a sick grin.

They entered the Rocky Mountains gradually, winding on treacherous roads higher and higher, and he began searching for the little, snowed-in path that lead to his cabin in the heights, knowing it was easy to miss at this time of year, when storms regularly made sure it looked unused. His Camaro was having trouble sticking to the icy road with its rear traction, even though he had installed big, thick-rimmed tires on it to be able to access his home.

He'd been gone for a couple of days however, and when he found the path (barely large enough to fit a single car through it), he saw it was snowed in and impracticable.

An annoyed sigh was that all that escaped him as he clicked his claws on the steering wheel, weighting his options… he could park the vehicle there and walk with the frail through miles of steep terrain, but then he risked another frail driving by and investigating who the car belonged too… might put him in trouble if people started disappearing near his place…

Then again, he could risk driving on to the cabin, knowing he'd total his car in a matter of time, leaving him with a load of scarp metal on his arms and nothing to do about it.

Finally there was the touchy decision of leaving the car right here, heading up with the frail and returning right after to move it elsewhere, preferable far away. Blowing it up would be fun too, but it would attract attention and besides, he had grown accustomed to it…

Creed growled lowly, finally picking the last option. Besides, once the car was parked far away, he'd be quickly able to regain his living quarters by deploying the animal within him to just fly right through the forest. The frail wouldn't even have the time to wonder where he was…

He pushed his door open with a smirk after cutting off the engine. Wind was howling and snow stun at his skin, but he barely felt it, his regeneration factor already dealing with the frost. He flipped open the trunk, staring down at the wakening girl, who had tightly wrapped herself in his coat, her delicious, sleepy smell mixing with the faded one of fear, sweat, blood and death.

"W-wha…" She mumbled, barely able to keep her eyes open, even though he saw her fight exhaustion as the cold air hit her and she realized he was quite real and not a dream.

Hs fangs showed when he grinned. "We're walking from here on, frail. Get moving."

(0)

She woke up suddenly after those words, and Victor had to step back with a chuckle when the dead wolverine came shooting out of the trunk towards his face. She sat up, eyes furious, his coat pushed away violently and immediately tried to hide the fact that she was freezing. It was snowing softly, a prelude to an upcoming storm, and the weather was not kind.

He shrugged. "You can always stay here and die." He proposed a little too cheerfully, causing her to narrow her eyes as she slipped slowly out of the car. Her wrists and neck were bruised from his touch, he saw, and smirked wolfishly at that. They hadn't even reached destination and she was already starting to have his mark on her body…

Her feet were still clad in only sandals, long legs naked and arms bared to the wind. She looked away hastily and gritted her teeth tightly to stop them from chattering, simply crossing her arms over her chest as if she wasn't freezing.

"Well,' He nodded towards the forest, 'get moving."

She looked up. "I don't know where to go." Anger kept her voice stable.

"Don't worry, frail… I'll guide you. Just walk."

She turned around briskly and stomped off, raising her legs high to fight the powdery snow, trying not to show how uneasy it made her to have him walking behind her like a hunter. He only grinned animally at that reaction, following her slowly and taking his time to get a good look at her. He hadn't had the time since he'd first seen her…

As he previously though, she had to be in her late teens. She measures about five foot six, neither tall nor small (even though she was tiny compared to him), and probably weighted half the recommended mass for a girl of her age and height. Her shoulder blades jutted out in that hunched posture she had at the moment, ribs showing every time her shirt clung to her skin a bit. The girl's thighs had no fat or actual muscle on them and he guessed that she must have been starved for long periods at a time, because short hunger did not affect the muscles so brutally. Yet even through her emancipation she appeared determined and hard-headed… probably a trait that got her into trouble often.

Cuts and bruises showed all over her body, especially on her legs and almost certainly on her back; he had noted that her face remained fairly untouched except for the remains of a black eye, bruised jawbone and a couple scratches. Her skin had a sickly, stretched tone but appeared to be usually quite gorgeous and soft when it was cared for.

This girl was the vestige of a great beauty, with gentle, curvy features that had been slowly carved away into hardness and hate. Victor Creed's mouth watered when he though of what he would do to her… how he would bring back that prettiness and then rip it all away with more cruelty than it had first been erased.

Now as she walked gingerly through the snowy forest, cursing under her breath and holding back her pain, he followed patiently, waiting for the moment she would snap. He wasn't saying a word, speaking loudly enough with his lurking presence, letting her build up her agony to the breaking point… Creed found himself wondering how long it would take her before she cracked and asked for his help. He was already surprised she had trekked for ten minutes in nothing but sandals and a shirt through a winter forest, in knee-high snow. The feral knew that very few people would have endured even that, preferring to give into comfort than into pride.

They moved on blindly for long minutes still, with him smirking wider and wider behind her back as she stumbled and fought through sheer, burning cold. He smelled fury rise from her, along with tears that threatened to fall but were held back strongly. It did not take long after that for her to just suddenly come to a halt and take a long, painful breath.

"I don't know where I'm going." She mumbled, clenching her tiny fists.

He raised an amused eyebrow. "Come again? Didn't quite catch that…"

She veered around in a single move. Her lips were blue as she repeated herself, slowly, angrily.

"Forward, frail. I told you I'd guide you. You're on the right path." He shrugged. That was a lie: they were heading too much to the east but he enjoyed letting her seethe in the howling wind.

Teeth gritted and despair flashed in her eyes, almost pleading… the animal within him stirred.

"Go on." He encouraged with a grin he couldn't hide.

She mumbled something, looking down, and he just stared until she cleared her voice and repeated her words. "I'm wearing sandals and a t-shirt."

"Your point being?"

"I'm cold."

"And?" He was amused like he hadn't been in a long time. He'd have her begging soon enough.

She set her jaw, stepped on her pride. "Can you carry me to wherever the fuck it is we're going?"

"Forgetting something?" He purred, moving forward as fluidly as a panther in the jungle, as dangerously too.

"Please." She wanted to rip him, or herself, or the whole damn world apart and he could smell it. Creed let the silence hang around for a split second more before crossing the remaining distance between them so quickly that she flinched, awaiting his blow. He scooped her up briskly, feeling the rigidity of her limbs against his body and whispered to her ear.

"I'm not the hitting type, frail." She loosened a little in his grip, before he sunk his sharp fangs into the curve between her shoulder and neck, feeling her delicious, warm blood invade his mouth like poison. She cried out softly, not daring to move.

He pulled his mouth out of the smoking wound. "I'm the biting type."

Creed set out into the snow in long strides, tasting her in his mouth so vividly that he had to fight against himself to not rape her right there in the fucking snow.

(0)

Okay, that's all for now. The story should accelerate a bit more in the next chapters, although I love lingering on detailed scenes. I'll probably make longer chapters after this one.

AND NOW, POLL TIME!!!!

I've got two important questions for you to answer:

ONE: What name would you like her to have? Maybe you haven't noticed, but I haven't given her one yet. I want an original, yet normal name, so I'm not looking for stuff like Raven or Anathielle. What name do you want to see? Post several if you like.

TWO: Should she have mutant powers or not, considering where this story is headed? As you've probably understood, she had a mutant mother (with unknown powers), and I was thinking of finding something for her too, although I don't know what. If you think she should, then tell me what kind of powers would be a good idea.

Feel free to post several ideas for each question in your review, I'll take them all into consideration!

Until then, good evening and good night.


	5. Memories in the snow

I want to thank you all so much for submitting all these names and ideas for the girl's powers. I particularly thought a lot about Fire Black Dragon's idea of making her a feral too, but it would have given the story a turn I do not want to take ( I might incorporate that into a different story however) and BG's idea of a light healing factor. I've made my decision, and you will discover it in later chapters as the story unfolds.

The names were all very good, nicely selected, but it was Jinx of the 2nd Law that inspired me for the final choice. I'm very grateful for your help guys, as I hate choosing names since they all sound weird when I'm the one coming up with them.

There's gonna be another fun poll at the end so take a look at that…

Here goes!

(0)

She was rolled into a tight ball, pressed against his chest and fighting the trembles that coursed through her whole body, as her jaw remained clenched to hide the chattering of her teeth. Her skin was on fire from the cold, every snowflake that touched it felt like a blade of ice trying to slice into her flesh. He seemed unaware (or simply ignoring) of her condition, striding through the snow as if it were butter, marching in this frozen forest with a determination that showed he knew where he was going.

She had guessed so far that he was a feral, and even though she had never really been around mutants, she knew a bit about the different types of them. As far as she was aware, ferals had sharpened senses and often very dangerous, animal sides (obviously), along with the addition of fangs and claws and other unnatural weapons. He appeared to have all that and by the way the cold wasn't affecting him in the least, she was starting to think he might have a high resistance to pain…

His gruff voice brought her out of that reverie. "So, do you have a name at least, frail?"

He didn't look at her when he spoke, concentrated on moving forward. She shrugged.

"What do you care?" Her voice wavered from the cold.

The man scoffed quietly and revealed fangs with a smirk. "You can always walk if you don't want to answer the questions I ask."

There was a moment of silence as they continued trekking through the frost.

"Aubrey."

"No family name?"

It was her turn to scoff. "No family to go with one, no."

Again, silence instilled itself between them and she wiggled her toes in her sandals to make the blood return to them. They were numb and hard to move at all and with a pang of worry, Aubrey wondered if they were frostbitten…

"How about you? Do you have a name?" She finally asked, just to tear herself out of her worries.

"Creed."

"No first name?"

The mutant grinned in a way far too much like a predator for it to be any reassurance to the girl. He seemed to be enjoying her nature, and Aubrey had learned that when a sociopath mutant feral liked the way you talked, there was no cause for joy.

"Victor."

She sniffed. 'A pleasure, Victor Creed. I will be you fucking death.' Aubrey thought coldly, already preparing plans in her head to win back her freedom.

(0)

They finally broke out of the endless forest and out into an open area of snow and wind. Aubrey tried to curl up tighter still, fighting the renewed wave of freezing cold but stopped fidgeting when she caught a glimpse of an impressive, one-story wooden cottage that looked like it had been pulled out of a dream decoration magazine. It stood there, brave against the storm, a shadowy mirage amidst the twirling snow flakes… She had never had the chance to be around nice homes or places, but could recognize an amazing architecture when she saw one…

The place was fairly large, stationed alone in the empty clearing, with thick, light-colored wood walls that rose at least sixteen feet tall before reaching the sharply peaked roof. The cottage was not square-shaped: instead it was built with angled corners and rectangles, giving it an interesting, homely appearance. There were many large, impressive windows in the walls, but nothing could be seen through them and she guessed that he must have put blinds on them. It actually surprised her that Creed lived in such a place as he stroke her as more of a solitary, animal kind of person. It was hard to believe that someone who killed furry creatures and locked them in car trunks with kidnapped girls would want to own such a beautiful cottage.

Then again, he probably had this build here because he needed somewhere to bring back his kidnapped girls and dead things so he could have a little fun, far from all civilization. This thought sent more shivers through Aubrey's body than the cold ever could have.

The advanced a bit more through the soft snow and Creed paused in front of the huge, wooden door that lead into the log cabin, holding her in only one arm now so he could push open the door to get inside. She felt his bulging muscles through his coat and noted that carrying her so lengthily through the storm had not even slightly tiered him, not even shortening his breath.

Together they stepped inside and the awe continued…

Creed dumped her unceremoniously on the ground and she landed on her flank without a sound, too amazed by her surroundings. They were in a giant living room full of huge, dark tweed couches and loveseats that faced an enormous fireplace made of uneven, dark gray stones held in place by hard concrete. The high walls were mostly covered in shelves full of thick books and paintings of woods and countrysides. Just beside the living room, separated only by a wood and granite counter, was a beautiful kitchen with floors of white and pale gray marble and expensive-looking steel appliances.

A corridor beyond the living room probably lead to one or more bedrooms and bathrooms, which she was suddenly keen on seeing, wondering if they would also be so nicely built. The decoration was basic, a little rustic and not very personal and everything was kept surprisingly clean. If she hadn't known who lived here, Aubrey would have sworn this was the vacation home a rich, educated and important man and his little family…

She glanced up at the feral and caught his amused expression; quickly turning her own awed face into one of bitter resentment.

"Hard to believe I have taste, frail?" He purred, taking a step towards her.

She was still on the floor and started to back up slowly with her arms and legs, until her sore back pressed to one of the black and gray couches. She bit back a moan of pain as he followed her, his big boots remaining soundless on the wooden floor.

"I…" She swallowed hard, finding nothing witty to answer.

He swooped down towards her and she cringed, closing her eyes. She could feel his hot, hungry breath on her face and tried to stop shaking uncontrollably. They remained like this for a moment, unmoving, until he finally spoke in a gruff, lustful voice that sent her into a panic.

"I've got a little something I've got to do before I start taking care of you. I won't be gone long, don't worry, frail… you won't even have the time to miss me." He rose to his full height again and Aubrey finally dared to look up at him: his expression was amused and yet so… ravenous… she shivered.

Without another word he moved silently back to the door that lead outside and slipped back into the raging storm. She did not waste a second and jumped up before running towards the window, peering from behind the thick, dark curtains at his retreating back until she saw him vanish into the woods.

'Must have gone to move that car of his…' She thought momentarily, before realizing that he had finally left her alone… heck, this must have been the first time in a year that she was alone and unbound at the same time…

For a moment, Aubrey remained frozen in place, still feeling her limbs, toes and fingers red and burning fiercely from the time they were exposed to the cold… it had been so long since she'd actually been left unchecked that like back in Vegas, she found she had no idea what to do with herself.

She stood there, gazing emptily at a shelf full of books and scratched her arm absently, lost in her empty mind. The girl suddenly snapped out of it, shaking her head angrily.

'Stupid! You're left fully alone and operational for once, don't just waste that time waiting for him to get back… get the hell out of here!' She growled mentally at herself, moving rather uncertainly out of the living room and into the corridor that led to the rest of the house.

She opened the first door she saw and realized it was a storage place for linens and towels. She shut the door and opened the next, falling on a bathroom. The third room she visited was the master bedroom, filled with a giant, king-size bed full of thick, fluffy pillows and warm-looking covers… Aubrey paused as she entered it, suddenly very tiered, her aching muscles begging for a few seconds of comfort… she shook her head and forced herself to reach the big dresser in the room and started opening the drawers.

In a few seconds she had found warm socks to pull on her feet, several clean t-shirts that smelled vaguely like Creed (she pulled them all on one after the other), a thick, warm sweater and two pairs of fleece pajamas that she put on one over the other in hopes that they would be warm enough in the storm. These clothes were all way too big for her, especially the pants, but she made those hold to her emaciated hips by tightening their string as much as she possible could. She then shuffled out of the room rapidly, returning to the entrance, where she spotted another closet, which she found to be empty except for a long, black coat and two pairs of huge army boots.

She put those on her feet, tightening them as much as she could and started praying that she wouldn't have to run… they were heavy and eager to slip off her tiny feet.

Grabbing the lonely coat, she pulled it on as she exited the cottage hastily, cringing as the cold winter air hit her in the face. Aubrey knew she had no provisions and absolutely no mountain-related survival skills but her time was counted and either way, she preferred to die out in the cold rather than be abused again and again by yet another psycho.

The girl slunk off into the direction opposite from the one Creed had taken to return to his car.

(0)

He pressed the shirt she had abandoned in his bedroom to his nose and breathed in her strong, frightened smell eagerly. When he let it drop back down to the floor, next to her sandals and shorts, he was grinning fully, canines exposed in his amusement.

'Who would have thought I'd fall on the most determined frail out there? I can't even begin to think how long she's been abused and yet, she still finds the hope to keep trying to run… this just might be the most fun I've had since the last mission Stryker organized…' Creed thought with joy as he walked briskly out of his bedroom, down the corridor and to the living room. The whole house smelled of her fear, anger and despair and it was close to driving him up the wall.

When he had left her alone to go get his car hidden, he wasn't sure what to except of her. She was only a frail after all and smelled so strongly of depressed terror that he figured she'd probably roll into a ball somewhere in a corner and hope to die… or that she would out rightly commit suicide to end it all… but she hadn't disappointed him, giving him instead an opportunity to chase around after her and appease the hunter in him.

Creed paused in front of the front door. He smelled that she had left about half an hour ago and wondered briefly if he shouldn't give her more time to distance him… but just at the thought of rushing through the woods after her, sensing her terror grow as she felt him come closer was really making him desperate to catch her as quickly as he could…

Christ, how he wanted her! Nothing turned him on more than that singular combination of fury and fear she carried and the chase she offered.

"Aubrey…" He purred, savoring her little name. Soon enough, she would be his entirely and she'd be screaming his name when he screwed her senseless, hating herself and unable to understand what the hell was wrong with her… he'd be the end of her.

(0)

The wind whipped at her face and she stumbled, falling on all fours into the deep snow. Her hands were frozen, beyond pain and feeling, and she cursed herself for the hundredth time, knowing she should have brought at least some gloves or something… Aubrey had no idea how far she had traveled, nor in what direction she was going anymore and had lost all sense of time. She could have been out there for five minutes or a month, it wouldn't have made a difference…

Her ears were burning, her heart beating in them like a drum and frost had formed on her lashes, nearly shutting them together. She stood up slowly yet again, staggering forward in her heavy boots, the long back trench coat dragging behind her.

Thankfully, the wild wind was erasing her footsteps with renewed waves of snow and she could only hope that Creed's feral senses were not as good as she feared they were, so that he wouldn't be able to smell or hear her through the howling storm. Aubrey was fatigued… no, she was way beyond that… she was bordering insanity from her exhaustion…

Her legs were weak and trembling, her body was a massive, dull array of pain and she couldn't see straight anymore. More and more, she was feeling the need to lie down in the snow (oh, how it seemed warm!) and just close her eyes (so tiered…), just for a minute (just enough to recuperate a little)…

She tripped over her own feet and went tumbling down a steep, short hill she had been unable to see. The snow got into her coat and boots, crawling into the remains of warmth she had and stealing it all away from her. The girl lay face first on the ground, breathing slowly, unable to bring herself to make a move.

'I've got to get up… got to keep going…' She mused tiredly.

Another part of her piped up in her mind. 'Why? You'll die one way or another, and if you just fall asleep now, at least you'll go without even knowing it… either way, he'll find you.'

She sighed. 'I can't just give up…'

Nothing answered her and she started to notice that the world around her was becoming darker and darker. She suddenly could have sworn she saw her father's face, so red and angry as she yelled at her, spit flying from his flabby lips, while she cringed and cried and reached out to her mother with pleading hands, please don't let him hit me, please… her mother just looked down at her with those big, sad eyes, not daring to move out of the corner she had settled in, not daring to save her four-year-old begging daughter…

Aubrey saw her parents fighting, time and time again, those horrible, wounding words exchanged between them as daddy called mommy a freak and they both screamed at her that she was a monster, a half-breed… that was the only time they ever agreed on anything…

The girl felt big, strong hands rolling her over to her back and the light behind her closed eyelids became brighter; maybe the sun was up or maybe she was dead… those big arms pulled her up, was it to carry her or to maim her?

"Please don't… please, no… I can't… no…" She struggled weakly. "Don't… don't sell me to him, I can take anything… but… not… this…" She tried to suppress her angry and frightened tears as they rose with the memory of her father accepting large amounts of money from men who want to 'expose' the mutant half-breed in front of other men so they could make her understand she was an unwanted piece of flesh on this earth…

Aubrey realized that whoever was holding her at the moment did not actually seem so bad… they were gentle in carrying her bruised body, which was something she wasn't used to at all… and they smelled so nice…

"Am I… dead?" She whispered, eyes still frozen shut.

A gruff chuckle answered her. "Told you frail, you won't die a natural death."

Her heart sunk into darkness along with her consciousness when she realized who was carrying her.

(0)

Ouff! There we go, another chapter finished! Hope you guys like it; it was a rainy day so I took my time in getting it done.

Ok, now it's POLL TIME. This one is just for fun, not related to the story.

Question: If you could relate to a single character from the X-men (I, II, III and Origins), which one would fit you personality best? And not which one you'd like to be, please…

So give me your answers about that and while you're at it, try to guess which one I find fits me best! A clue: it's someone from Origins, and its probably not who you think!

Okay, until next time… good evening and good night!


	6. Immortal

Yay, more reviews! I check several times a day to see if I've gotten any new ones… It's so much fun to see them!

In answer to the poll, we've got a Kitty and Rogue, both very cool characters and without surprise, a Creed. Yes I do know you're like him, Wolfang… unfortunately indeed…

And you know me well enough to have been able to guess who I feel closest to… Wade Wilson of course! Hehehe… I can't shut my mouth to save my life and my hyperactivity borders on insanity. But I'm a cool person all the same aren't I… no?

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He peeled off layer after layer of soaked, frozen clothing from her body with surprising care, not only because it was his clothes she was wearing (he hated shopping for new things as much as he hated Wade), but mainly because her whole being was stiff from the cold and was prone to sudden bursts of flailing, angry arms and screams. And also because he was simply enjoying stripping her naked as slowly as he could to prolong the pleasure…

They were back inside his cabin, settled in front of the fireplace that was alight with roaring flames, warming the room deliciously. The frail was obviously suffering from hypothermia to a certain degree and he knew that if he just dumped her into hot water, her heart would give out from the sudden wave of blood that hit it from all the numb extremities. And Creed had promised her that unnatural death of hers…

She was in his arms, so delicate, small and breakable… her limbs were thin, not as horrifyingly as that of a chronic anorexic, but just enough to make her lusciously fragile, in need of protection… he grinned, knowing he'd make it his pleasure of giving it her and then of cruelly taking it away.

Creed rose to his feet in a fluid movement, bringing her up with him like some naked bride. The fire's light danced on her white skin, throwing her tiny curves into sharp detail, from the hard point of her small nipples to the light blonde duvet that covered her pubis. It stroke him as strange that her hair managed that raven-black color while her body hair remained so fair… strange, but beautiful. He had to be honest; the whores he was used to picking up for his kills were _very_ far from being as pretty as this little frail. Creed ran a clawed finger from her throat, down her heaving belly and to that blond fluff just above her warm, wet sex… he smelled the air eagerly, trying to define the scent and realized that even though she'd already been with a man, it had been very long ago. There was no male smell on or in her.

Smirking in an animal way, Creed carried her out of the living, through the corridor and to his bedroom, from where he entered the master bathroom. It was made of white tile; bright and pure with an imposing mirror overlooking over a marble sink and a giant bathtub in its center, which was at the moment full to the brim with warm, steamy water. He took the frail over to it, settling her slowly into the hot liquid, holding her tightly when she groaned and struggled, mumbled something that sounded like 'please'.

"Believe me, frail, I'd love to join." He growled as she slipped to her neck into the tub. He could feel his uncomfortably hard member pressing against his jeans and shifted slightly, as he crouched next to her, to lessen the pressure. The air was thick and full of hot condensation and he found himself feeling like he was chocking in the high temperature. Making sure the girl's head didn't slip into the water, he slowly slipped out of his own shirt and pants, groaning with relief when his hard-on found the space in needed in his boxers.

He sat next to her silently, watching as she stopped shivering and finally started to relax. Creed had to hold her in place so she didn't drown in her sleep…

"Frails… they'd fucking die if there wasn't always someone to care for them…" He scoffed out loud, his voice muffled by the steam. He knew it probably wasn't true about the girl, though… she didn't look like anyone had given a shit about her for years…

"No, leave… me… alone…" She raised a soaked hand and grabbed his arm, tiny nails trying to get a grip on his indestructible skin. Her eyes were still clenched shut, brow furrowed and she was showing her teeth in a meager try at being menacing. Curious, he moved a bit closer to her.

"Why should I leave you alone?" He purred, talking more to her nightmare than to her. He wondered… would he be able to converse with whatever she was seeing in her mind?

"Not scared… I'm not… can't make me…" She groaned, still trying to scratch him. He grinned like a predator, really getting into his role as her responding nightmare.

"I'll make you do whatever I want to…"

This time she growled angrily. "Fuck… you."

Even through the bath water, he could smell the fear that exploded out of her, covering the anger and disgust that filled her. But whatever was tormenting her ended suddenly because she slumped slightly and he had to hold her head anew so it wouldn't go under water.

'Good frail… don't give into those bad, bad dreams… you'll have enough of a nightmare dealing with me when you finally come around.' This time he thought silently.

Memories came to him so suddenly he couldn't really hold them back… memories of a time so damn long ago it had long since become easy to forget them... but sometimes, those dark, terrible times of his childhood surfaced without him wanting anything to do with them and he could only hope to fight them back…

Flashes, so many damn flashes of a time he was just like her, beaten, scared, tied down for being different… _SHIT_!

(0)

A boy, tied by his hands to the ceiling above, traces of tears on his filthy, grimy cheeks. Blood on his arms. Animal savagery in his eyes.

_A man, whip in hand, cigarette in his mouth. Fury all about him, all the way to his smell._

"_I'm not scared!" The boy screaming, fear all about him, all the way to his smell._

"_Not yet you aren'." The man whispers those words like a damn promise, and the pain is back when the whip-_

(0)

The scream escaped her lips like a bird taking flight and she jumped up, feeling water splashing all around her in a wave, sensing a presence near her and pushing it away, as far away as she could, hoping it wouldn't hit, wouldn't hurt… She struggled to get out of the water but felt how her body was heavy and clumsy, so weak… black spots flashed before her eyes from her sudden agitation and she came crashing down into the hot liquid, close to fainting again. She could still see that boys face, could nearly feel his mental and physical pain, all the time knowing it was just a dream, that he wasn't real, that the man with him couldn't hurt her…

Aubrey felt strong arms wrapping around her body and for once, she stopped fighting, letting herself get pulled back up to the surface with a new wave of fear, wondering where she was and what was going to happen to her now…

She surfaced in the arms of Victor Creed, stark naked, and utter shock was the only thing that stopped her from shrieking again. How did he get here? Didn't she escape him earlier… or did she die? Suddenly, her last memories returned, she remembered his gruff voice answering her in the woods before she passed out. But where the hell were they?

Slowly, she noted the white bathroom, big bathtub she had been dipping in and nearby sink, toilet and piles of white cotton towels… she also realized that he was now in the water with her, wearing nothing but his boxers and- oh god- she focused her attention on his face when she realized what was going on in those boxers… Aubrey blushed and switched her gaze on the mirror behind him when she saw him grinning wickedly.

"Are you done thrashing and putting water everywhere?" He asked in a pleased growl, holding her tight. When she bit her lips and didn't answer, he squeezed her closer to him; just enough to make her bones crack slightly and painfully.

Aubrey gasped and nodded quickly, not daring to look at him. What now? Was he going to hurt her, beat her or just outright rape her? A shiver of disgust and terror gripped at her stomach, churning it. If she had eaten anything, she would have been sick…

She could feel his big, hard member against her stomach as it twitched in response to her trembling, and couldn't suppress the memory of the one man that had ever… screwed her… one of the bastards her father had 'rented' her to. He'd been the only one that managed, the others nearly dying when they approached her to fuck her… she'd nearly killed anyone else who had tried… no matter the beatings she got for defending herself.

And Creed would get the same, no matter how slim her chances were of harming him.

All through that debate of hers, he was looking attentively at the frail, catching every whim that changed in her smell. She went incredibly fast from that enthralling, bitter terror to an overpowering hate and anger that made her seem like a bi-polar. The girl jumped from one emotion to another so easily because of her own inner thoughts; it was amazing…

Just to mess her up, he ran a slow, gentle, clawed hand through her tangled mass of hair. She glanced up at him slowly, cringing, eyes full of mistrust. He did not cross her gaze, continuing his soothing gesture as if he wasn't aware of the fear he caused her. It took long minutes but she finally settled in more comfortably against him, moving very slowly, _very_ carefully, either scared of loosing that gentle touch or sure she'd get hit for changing positions.

Creed forced himself to think of other things than the naked body of the frail against his, knowing it made her damn uncomfortable to feel his raging hard-on against her flank. Right now, he wanted her trusting and relaxed so he could start messing with her mind a little… besides, he'd have all the time he wanted to make her want his cock later on, when her soul was in pieces…

She was becoming less and less rigid in his grasp, finally resting an unsure cheek against his shoulder, still feeling somewhat skittish.

He found himself drifting back to those memories of when he was kid, before he knew the runt was his half-brother, before they were able to run away and become a family of their own.

Back then he was just a fearful kid, beaten by his own drunk father while Jimmy lived the high life… he held back a growl.

(0)

Her cheek was warming up against his burning-hot skin and her mind remained blank but for one thought: that of the dream she had just before waking up. The one with the boy… she figured it was just her mind adapting one of the many torture scenes in her past with the image of a young male… she had no idea why, but maybe it was just fever or something of the sort.

Creed's hand was dangerously soothing in her hair, the menace of his sharp claws remaining constant even though they were not harming her at the moment. Aubrey knew this was probably some messed up fantasy the mutant had, being gentle with what he killed or whatever, and that it wouldn't last. What real, nice person locked up kidnapped girls in their trunk with dead animals and made them walk in sandals through fucking snowstorms afterwards? What real, nice, people were mutant ferals for that matter?

But then again, maybe this was Creed's approximation of real and nice, and he really didn't want to do her any harm… he had saved her from death after all… to torture her longer? He kept saying she wouldn't die a natural death, and that was not reassuring in any way.

He shifted beside her and she cringed, eyes shutting and muscles locking. 'There we go…' She thought, awaiting the blow…

It did not come. He simply pushed her aside gently and got up slowly, letting the warm water run down his firm, muscular body in long streaks. She glanced up, admiring just how well he was built and blushed a bright red when he caught her staring. Grabbing for a towel, he wiped himself dry and she shifted beneath his singular gaze, trying to cover her nakedness.

Creed extended another towel towards her, inviting her to get up and come near him to get dry. Aubrey hesitated for a moment, feeling very uncomfortable and rose slowly to avoid blacking out, shuffling towards him without looking at his face. She tried to keep herself hidden slightly…

The towel was around her before she knew it and she was again in his big arms, an unwelcome feeling on trust washing over. She shook her head, awakening an ache in her throat and skull and snapped out of it. He was a psycho like any other, even if he was presently gentle. She couldn't allow her suspiciousness to drop for a second.

Creed carried her out of the warm bathroom and into the master bedroom, placing her on the bed where she remained, shivering and following him with worried eyes. He made it to his dresser, throwing off his own towel and pulling off his boxers… she looked away very quickly, interesting herself in the large window behind the bed, beyond which she still saw snow fluttering, although more lazily than before. The mutant cleared his throat loudly and her head snapped back towards him, noting that he was now wearing a pair of dark sweatpants and a smug grin.

"What?" She growled with a scowl. He brandished a flannel shirt of his, waving it around in front of her.

"You can wear this, but if you prefer, you can stay naked… I like you better like that." His smirk showed off his fangs and Aubrey blushed yet again, grabbing the clothing and getting into it. It was buttoned to her neck by the time she was done with it and when she stood, it fell to a couple inches above her knees… it was enough.

"Good." He nodded, eying her. "You look starved half-way to death. When's the last time you ate?"

She shrugged, looking away and within the blink of eye, he was standing next to her, holding both her wrists tightly enough to make the bones crack. She gasped in pain, looking into those steal eyes of his with a note of fear.

"If I ask a question, I expect an answer." His voice remained even, no anger or cruelty appearing anywhere on his bearded face.

"I… I don't really know. What date is it?" She whispered.

"March eleventh, last time I checked."

She bit her lip. Had it been really that long? "It's been maybe five or six days…"

His eyebrows rose very slightly and he pulled her after him none too gently, easing the pressure on her wrist enough for them to stop hurting. They were still bruised from the last time he'd held her like that and by the looks of it, would remain bruised for a while.

They made it to the kitchen, where the marble floor was cool against her feet. Aubrey noted the roaring fire in the living room, feeling it's reassuring warmth as he pulled onto one of the chairs that surrounded a square, dark, wooden table against on of the far walls. He left her there and walked to the fridge, pausing for a moment in front of it once it was open and finally pulling out a plate of something.

Creed set it in front of her with a fork and she stared down at the cold, cooked meat, tiny portion of vegetables and slice of bread that sat before her, her mouth watering. He seated himself next to her, his interested gaze never leaving her. Aubrey slowly picked up the fork, but did not dare use it.

"C'mon, we haven't got till Hell freezes over!" He said suddenly, giving her a jump. She started to eat slowly, fighting her urge to wolf everything down in a single bite. The pain in her stomach had returned, far more vivid than she could remember.

As she fed, she couldn't help but steal a glance at the array of cooking knives standing not too far away on the counter… she wondered, if she was fast enough, maybe she could-

He followed her gaze and got up briskly, walking over to the knives and picking up the biggest, sharpest one of them all before bringing it back to the table and installing himself more comfortable next to her. Aubrey was frozen in mid-bite, looking at him worriedly as he ran the blade over his fingertips, grinning at her like an animal.

"Admit you would have wanted to try and do me in." He whispered.

Remembering what he had told her (and her bruised wrists), she answered in a quick murmur. "Y-yes…"

He flipped the blade around in his hand and stabbed it with full force into his arm, which was resting on the table lazily. It went through his whole limb, biting into the table and pinning it down.

Aubrey let out a horrified scream, pushing herself back and getting up on staggering legs and looking at his emotionless, painless face… he smirked at her, removing the blade slowly, drawing no blood…

The girl gasped when she saw the wound close up amazingly fast, leaving not even a scar as a memory, the mutant's skin as flawless as before. His eyes bore into hers.

"You can't do me in, frail. Remember that."

She swallowed heavily, correcting one of her previous thoughts:

He was not a psycho like any other; he was an immortal one.

(0)

POLL TIME

(My) Victor Creed is sexy: TRUE/FALSE

And if I see anyone answer false, I'll set my Creed to maim that person!

Until next time, good evening and good night!


	7. Unwanted desires

The reviews were very appreciated for chapter 6! I particularly want to thank DallasFan8304 for her detailed comment… it's that kind of thing that really makes me want to keep writing: to see that someone was very interested by what I do and able to analyze the contents of the story. By the way, if that profile picture is one of you, Dallas, you are _very_ beautiful. 

Keep posting comments!

(0)

Aubrey continued eating very slowly after she had settled back down on her chair, although her stomach remained knotted and what was left of her appetite flew right out the window. She kept her eyes averted, only occasionally glancing at the healed arm Victor had left so casually resting on the table near her. He was following her every move; she felt his burning gaze on her, and she had no idea what to do with her discomfort.

After a while, she decided to settle her fork silently against her half-eaten plate, focusing an intent look on where the knife had broken the mutant's skin moments earlier. The girl's fingers twitched and slowly, unsurely, moved towards that big, strong arm. Would he react badly to her touch? She did not know, but felt compelled to prove to herself she had not hallucinated the healing process.

Creed did not move a muscle when her cold fingers grazed his hot flesh. She ran her hand over his arm, utterly fascinated, both of them staying completely silent…

"Hard to believe?" He finally purred, moving his body on the chair so he'd be closer to the table. She jumped at his words and motion, instinctively drawing back her fingers and scooting away from him.

"What's hard to believe?" Aubrey whispered to snap out of the fear grinding her within.

Creed showed his fangs, smirking. "That I won't die and go away?"

The girl couldn't help it: the cold truth of those words made her stomach churn violently and she tasted bile in her throat while her insides heaved. She was up and running towards the bathroom in seconds, hand over her mouth and barely made it to the toilet, where she emptied her belly of the food she had just consumed. Coughing and choking, she flushed the sick away, gingerly moving aside to sit with her back against the wall and suppressed tears ferociously.

She was biting her lips almost hard enough to make them bleed, suffering all at once from the bitterness in her mouth, her deep-seeded despair and from the healing wounds on her back, suddenly wanting nothing else than to become a shadow and disappear.

Creed had not followed her into the bathroom and she was relieved, needing this moment of loneliness to recompose herself and try to start thinking straight. An instinctual fear overtook her slowly as she wondered if he would beat her for rejecting the food he had offered her… it was not as though that had never been done to her in the past…

'Don't think about the past…' She scolded herself mentally, passing long, thin fingers through her moist hair. When she felt her legs stop shaking, after a long moment of controlled breathing, Aubrey got up slowly and returned through the bedroom and corridor into the living room to face whatever the mutant had in store.

She found Creed still sitting at the table, illuminated only by the crackling fire, his chin propped casually against his big, clawed hand. She couldn't make out his expression, so she stopped feet away and tugged at her flannel shirt uncomfortably, wondering what she should do or say.

Truth was, he was really amused by her attitude. She was so provocative, courageous and angry and yet so… delicate, frightened and insecure… it was fun to watch and just say nothing as she plunged from hate to terror to anxiety all on her own, beating herself up more than any tormentor ever could. Whatever she had lived had obviously taught her to be harder on herself so no one else could be worst…

He sighed, trying to hide his grin. "Are you going to eat the rest or just let it go to waste again?"

She shifted her bare feet, wondering if it was trick question. Her imagination was running wild, making her see all the wrong turns any of her answers could take. "I… no, I don't want any more…" Aubrey finally said, looking at him as directly as she could without confronting him too much.

"Suit yourself." Creed shrugged, getting up in a graceful movement and placing the plate back into he fridge. He turned around to look at her, his smirk finally showing in the dim light. Night had fallen outside, no sun filtering through the curtained windows… it only made him seem scarier, she realized.

He gestured towards the living room, with its inviting, warm couches and blazing flames. "Come on."

Aubrey followed his silent footsteps like a shadow. He settled into the largest sofa, the one that was facing the fireplace and she saw that it was a lot bigger than normal couches would be… maybe he had it made custom to accommodate his unusually big frame…

She of course knew that he wanted her near him so she begrudgingly settled at the other end of the same seat, curling up into a tight ball and shivering, even through the fire's warmth.

"Tell me." He ordered as soon as she stopped fidgeting. His steal-gray eyes captured hers and Aubrey wasn't able to look anywhere else, as if mesmerized.

"Tell you what?"

"Who you are."

His answer was so simple and yet it plunged her into a silent whirlwind of replies, memories and pains. How could she possibly tell him who she was, what she had lived? He would either use it against her to find further torments he could cause her or he simply didn't wouldn't give a damn, whichever way the girl had no desire to re-live her past with a psycho mutant beside a fireplace… it was such a crude cliché.

So she shrugged. "There's nothing to say."

Creed tilted his head, his posture suddenly dangerous in many ways. "I thought I was clear when I said I wanted you to answer me when I asked you questions."

"Clear by doing what? Bruising my wrists? Believe me when I say I've seen far worst, and there's nothing new you can possibly do to me." Aubrey spat out furiously before she could stop herself. Anger had reared its ugly head inside her like a snake, the taunt escaping her lips like a death wish. The girl fell silent brutally but she stayed proud enough not to show she _very_ deeply regretted her outburst.

A wicked grin animated the mutant's face, as if she'd given him the go to become a savage animal. In a flash he was on top of her, pinning her down before she had the time to blink and understand he had moved and Aubrey found herself at an odd, very exposing angle on the big couch. Her flannel shirt had ridden up her thighs when Creed had uncurled her body in order to immobilize her and she started to feel very naked under that half-furious, half-amused look on his face.

He was holding both her wrist above her head with a single hand while his knees painfully held her two legs apart and unmoving. She tried to buck out of his grasp, succeeding only in curving her back inward enough to press her hips against his hardening member… Aubrey cringed and crushed herself against the sofa in hopes of passing through it and vanishing, panic making her heart flutter like a bird's wings.

Using his free hand, knowing his weight was keeping her in place, Creed slowly and teasingly made his claws scale down from the girl's mane of hair, to her neck and collarbone, going lower… lower…

"You think there's nothing new I can do to you?" He smirked, claws slicing delicately through her shirt when he reached it, as if it was made of spider webs. "Frail, has anyone ever made you feel… like you wanted them so much it fucking hurt, even though you hated them?" His voice was lustful now, predatory eyes following the flesh that was being exposed through the ripped shirt.

Aubrey fought back a choking sob, averting her gaze. "No… please…"

Creed smirked wider still at her begging, his claws going lower, shredding through the fabric, exposing one of her perky breasts and grazing over a hard nipple, making her gasp, with fear or with pleasure he was not sure… the buttons on the shirt came undone with the flick of a claw and her stomach was fully visible, heaving as she fought another sob, her eyes shut tightly…

The mutant was fighting his desire as much as he could, but could not hide the wickedly needful note in his voice as his hand slipped over her white skin and blonde pubic hair, all the way to her warm, wet hole, hovering right over it, close enough to be an unbearable taunt…

"I've got plenty of new things for you to try." He lowered his head right next to her ear and growled softly.

For a split second, but just for a second, Aubrey could no longer fight back against her body. A wave of warmth spread through her whole being, her hips bucked upward to meet his hand, expectant, hopeful and she almost let a fucking moan escape her shaking lips… but a mixture of disgust and hate for herself caught her so quickly when she realized what she was doing that it was instead of a roar of fury that got out. She suddenly twisted and thrashed angrily, trying to pull herself free…

"Let… go!" She snarled, her brown eyes splitting open, alight with savagery. The girl managed to twist around awkwardly onto her stomach, wrists still locked and crushed in his single hand, but threw off both his knees that had been pinning her legs. Her thorn shirt hung open, now up around her waist and all she succeeded in doing was bringing her ass right up against his hard member, feeling for the first time its impressive length and thickness… she gasped, more from bitter terror than anything else.

The heavy grunt that escaped his lips was impossible to mistake and he pressed himself harder against her, loving the feel of his cock on her bare skin, only wanting to remove his own pants now to separate that last barrier and find her warm hole so he could force himself into her and screw her until she screamed his name… his mouth opened in a shiver of desire, revealing fangs that were ready to bite down on her wounded back and draw that sweet, hot blood…

"Fucking hell…" He growled suddenly, wrapping his free arm around her waist to keep her in place against his throbbing member, his whole body shaking from the built-up pleasure and begging for release. He was waging a war like he had never fought before, knowing this was not the way he had wanted to make her his… he wanted this to be different, he wanted her to want him, to destroy her like he had never destroyed anyone…

It took Creed every ounce of self-control to get his mind slightly out of the gutter, to stop his longing from driving him over the edge… and by God, if the frail would have moved a single inch at that moment, if her naked ass would have ever so slightly rubbed his hardness, he would have sent it all to Hell and would have raped her without another thought. But Audrey remained frighteningly still, not even daring to breathe.

For a long moment he remained like that, panting very slowly, still on all fours and on top of her back, ready to mate her like an animal…

'Stop thinking that…' He growled at himself, closing his eyes. He needed to get away and get away _now_… she smelled too much like delicious fear, like heavy panic… and that hint of hidden lust… _fuck_!

He pushed her away brutally, making her fall to the floor heavily and rose to his feet, stomping towards the entrance to the cottage and disappearing into the winter night with the door slamming behind his back. He hadn't even taken the time to put on a pair of boots.

(0)

Aubrey didn't move for a long time after she had heard Creed leave the house. She lay there on the ground, her back to the crackling fire, in a catatonic state, just staring in front of her… her mind was empty and she wasn't ready to fill it, knowing just how messed up everything had become.

Finally, after what might have been hours, when the flames had turned into shiny embers, she let thoughts back into her head; let feelings back into her body. And she almost regretted doing so.

'What the hell if wrong with me?' The girl instantly mused, remembering that momentary rise of desire she had felt when the mutant held his clawed hand over her naked sex… the memory brought a shameful, twisted feeling to her lower belly and she felt as though something had been ripped out of her, leaving her with a wound too deep to ever heal…

She tried to tell herself it was normal reaction, that in the heat of the moment she had entered his game, his needs; that the kindness he had shown her had earned him enough trust for that barrier of hers to weaken… but nothing sounded true enough to really ease her humiliation and she felt like she was boldly lying to herself.

'I'm a fucking piece of filth…' She thought bitterly, biting her lip. 'Nothing more than a fucking, worthless whore, and its my own damn fault…'

Aubrey clenched her jaw shut, fighting back tears that spilled out of her open eyes anyways. She just curled up as tightly as she could, drawing her knees up to her chest to protect herself from a danger that didn't come from the outside and closed her eyes. She let exhaustion carry her away hastily towards oblivion.

(0)

There was blood on his hands, and it wasn't human. He wished it could be. But it wasn't smart to maim people when he was in that state… he could too easily get carried away.

It felt good to have blood on his hands… felt good to run bare-chest and bare-footed in the fucking snow. The winter air did not cause the numbness in his body and mind, but the feeling this escape gave him was enough to calm his flesh and settle his thoughts.

Creed looked up at the sky, up at the piece of moon that grinned down at the scene of carnage he had caused in the forest…

Time to go back… he had work to do if he wanted to keep the girl as long as needed. He had to fix her now that he had broken her.

He only hoped that she hadn't tried to run again. Creed smirked at that thought… it would just be too bad if he had to kill her because she sent him into another frenzy so soon…

(0)

Yup, the moon is grinning at me too… time to go to bed little girl, it's 2 am…

POLL? Sure, why not?

Did you like the almost-sex scene, yes or yes?

Just kidding, tell me if there's anything I should improve.

'Evening and 'night.


	8. Kindness

The snow had washed away most of the blood from his hands and his bare chest by the time he got back to the cottage. The animals he had hunted down and killed had been left behind for other creatures to feast on… Creed didn't need any food at the moment and besides, it wasn't that kind of hunger that was eating him inside.

But his self-control was strong, and he wasn't worried. Now that he had determined that he would not touch the girl at any cost, until she herself begged for him, he felt settled, relaxed, and knew that no matter what, he'd be able to hold true to his own word… he just hoped it wouldn't take her _too _long before she snapped.

Pushing the door open silently, he stepped inside and immediately noted the small, dark form curled up on the floor in front of the dying fireplace. Only a few courageous ambers were still shining, providing very little heat and no light whatsoever, leaving the sleeping frail in total darkness. Yet he could hear her breathe, softly, calmly, could smell the remains on fear and hate that clung to her skin, could see her nearly perfectly with his good night vision… she seemed so much smaller, so much weaker…

Creed walked over to her in soundless steps, kneeling next to her. She shifted wit a groan and he heard her breathing change as her heart started to beat faster… she was awake, and aware of him. But the feral pretended he had not noted those changes and scooped her up into his arms as gently as he could, careful not to hurt her with his claws as he made sure her thorn shirt covered her pale body as much as it still could. He then carried her silently towards his room, trying not to react to the fact that she was stiffening in his grasp with every step he took, fear rolling off her in big, powerful waves… he could almost hear her throat constricting under the stress, so he fought to remain as placid and emotionless.

Entering his room, he made it to the bed, were he held on to the girl with a single arm for a moment to be able to push aside the thick, heavy covers and place her on the linen sheets. He covered her up slowly, admiring for a split moment that pretty little body and finally stood back. The frail's heart was still hammering loudly enough for anyone human to hear, even though her eyes were shut tight and he wondered for a second if he should let her know he was aware she was awake. Creed shrugged; it would probably cause her to panic more than he wanted.

He let himself out of the room without a backward glance and returned to the living room. From there, he grabbed a few big logs stacked in a corner and threw them into the fireplace, pushing them around with his extended claws until new flames erupted and started to spread. Warmth was returning to the room and he made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge, before settling back into one of the large couches. It had taken him time to find sofas this big when he had purchased this remote place, as normal people didn't need furniture that took up this much space… he enjoyed the comfort, however.

Creed looked up absently at the many bookshelves that stood up against the walls, as he opened his beer with a flick of his claw. He had never been much of a reader, but all the books he owned were classics, some of them worth hundreds of dollars, and he enjoyed being surrounded by that luxury. This was his only hideout that wasn't an abandoned shack, and this was the only place where he still felt slightly… human… not that he needed to feel that way… he was regularly called an animal, whether 'affectionately' by the members of Team X and Stryder, or by fearful victims and it never really bothered him. It was nice to live in human comfort however.

Besides, that was the limit of his humanity. Jimmy had always been the one to feel the necessity to be like the other frails, to read, to learn, to love… but Jimmy hadn't had the same childhood as him…

Creed found himself re-living those damned memories he would rather forget, gazing absently at the fireplace.

(0)

Fire. He had learned to fear fire. It burned like a bitch and it left scalding scars whenever his father decided to use it on him.

"_Burn out the evil. Fight fire with fire." The old man slurred, whiskey on his breath. He pressed a red-hot poker to Victor's tied hand, at the base of his claws, while the boy screamed out his pain to a night that remained deaf._

_Jimmy asked, from his big, warm bed and perfectly clean sheet, why he had burn marks… Victor answered with a hateful chuckle._

"'_Cause I'm different, Jimmy. I'm strong." But his tone was bitter and his eyes were hateful. The old man would pay… some day… soon…_

(0)

Aubrey sat up suddenly and stiffly, panting, her hands clenched into fists, feeling a burning fury deep within her heart. She stared down at her slim, trembling fingers and uncurled them slowly, trying to understand why that dream had caused her such emotion. She'd seen the young boy, tied down, his hands singed to burn away his claws… his name had been Victor…

Frowning, she wondered if it was the same Victor as the one holding her prisoner. Was her mind making up images to bring out pity for him? Why would she want to pity him? He was deranged and dangerous and she had no reason to feel that kind of emotion for him… maybe she'd gone insane during the night…

She shook her head violently. She'd spent the last twelve years of her life in ridiculous abuse; it wasn't one night up against a horny feral mutant that would be the thing to send her over the edge. Besides, she'd seen worst from human men who had been determined to get their dicks in her… come to think about it, even though Creed had teased her (her stomach lurched at the memory and she found herself feeling dirty, stained), he'd fought to control himself and had decided to leave before going any further. Just what did he want?

Aubrey sighed, her mind already too full of questions. He was a mystery all right and she remembered the gentleness with which he had carried her to his own room that night, letting her sleep soundly in his bed while he spent the hours of darkness elsewhere in the house. Again, she found herself wondering if he really wanted to harm her or if he was just lonely and not used to being kind…

'Stupid girl! He's a downright psycho messing with your head and you're falling for it! You're smarter than this!' She scolded herself silently, finally slipping out of the king-size bed. She looked down at the destroyed shirt, gathering it around herself with a shiver… obviously, she would have to get out of this room and go looking for him, but she didn't want to parade in front of Creed half-naked…

The girl grabbed one of the sheets from the bed and wrapped herself in it, checking out the window to try and determine what time of day it was, as there didn't seem to be any clocks in the room. The light was feeble, slightly pink, but there was no snow falling; it was probably still early in the morning.

Aubrey shuffled out of the room awkwardly, trying to stay as quiet as she could be, heading for the living room. Before she even got there, she started to smell a delicious, warm scent that made her stomach growl loudly. Startled, she realized it was the aroma of food, and she walked faster, bursting into the big room like a famished dog.

Creed looked up at her from the kitchen where he stood over a pan full of cooking eggs, his face amused and smirking. The girl froze suddenly, her mind finally getting a hold over her snarling stomach and she hesitated, uncomfortable in the mutant's presence.

"Well you're up early." Creed said, still grinning, and her tummy gave an embarrassing, loud growl in protest. "And hungry, I see…"

Why the hell was he acting like nothing had happened last night? The girl was confused on top of everything, shifting her weight from one foot to another, drawing the bed sheet closer around her body. Then, she remembered (and her bruised wrists throbbed) that he had asked her to answer when spoken to, so she did, although very shyly.

"Yeah… I- I'm starving." She looked almost ashamed and he chuckled, gesturing to the table.

"It's almost done. Sit." It was amazing how everything he said that might have been nice sounded like an order.

Aubrey walked slowly to the table, keeping him in her sights at all times, even though his back was now turned to her, knowing he could move damn fast when he wanted to get a hold of her. But her suspicions were unfounded: he stirred the eggs a couple times and finally pushed them into two plates, making a huge pile for himself and slightly smaller one for her. Creed carried the food to the table and set one in front of her with a fork, settling into the seat facing hers. She remained unmoving, unsure of if she could eat and he looked up at her after a few seconds, fork in hand, amused expression still on his face.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

Aubrey didn't waste a second, not even bothering to answer. She forgot all manners and shame and started to wolf down the food at amazing speed, shoving it in her mouth and swallowing in gulps large enough to choke her. Creed started to eat slowly, his eyes not leaving her.

"You going to keep the food in today?" He finally asked when she was halfway through.

The girl froze in mid-bite, fear suddenly grabbing at her throat. There we go, he was going to beat her for being sick the night before… she felt a familiar panic throbbing in her chest like a second heartbeat and her appetite faded in an instant.

Creed got a good look of those big, fearful eyes and chuckled.

"You worry too much. It was just a question." He told her, amused.

Diligent, the girl answered in a small tone. "No, I think I'll be fine."

Creed shook his head as she started to eat again, slowly this time. "You're eventually going to have to tell me why the hell you're so scared every time someone talks."

Aubrey chewed silently, feeling as though she was consuming cardboard now. The mutant resumed eating his own plate and after a moment, she just couldn't contain herself. The question slipped her lips before she could even stop it.

"Why are you doing this?"

Creed didn't even lift his eyes from his eggs. "What? Feeding you? Because, frail, you'd make an anorexic jealous… and because eatin' can't kill you…" He sent her a wolfish grin and the girl felt her throat constrict; she didn't want to know if pun was intended.

"No… I- I mean, why are you… being… nice like this." Aubrey swallowed hard, not sure she even wanted to have an answer to that. But maybe, if this was all cruel comedy, he would finally stop and she could leave this world of mental insecurity and return to that of solid fear. She was used to terror and pain… kindness was not part of her life…

The mutant's eyes bore into hers, carrying her gaze. There was a long moment of silence, as if he was deliberating, thinking, before he finally answered.

"Frail, you intrigue me."

Aubrey realized she had stopped breathing; she took a long draw of air before plunging her fork back into her eggs and continuing her meal. Her appetite had returned, but her insecurity was still very present.

(0)

Creed gave her a new t-shirt and her old shorts to wear and she felt a lot better after that. In the bathroom, as she changed, she glanced into the big mirror above the sink. Aubrey couldn't recognize the girl she was seeing: she hadn't often looked at herself, but she knew that she had never looked so bad in her life. Her black mane was tangled and long enough to graze her ass, her body was scary thin and covered in cuts and bruises and her eyes had a tiered, sunk look to them. Exhaustion and hardness were in her every trait, her being radiating a provocative, yet fearful image. Aubrey looked away from herself and tried not to think about the life that had led her to that physical appearance.

She left the bathroom after washing her face a little and grooming her messy hair, joining a silent Creed in the living room.

A fire was still burning in the fireplace, a welcoming source of warmth. The girl sat at the end of the same couch as him, curling into a little ball like the night before. That memory brought a new wave of unease into her full belly, making her shift.

Creed looked at her silently, his eyes neither feral nor aggressive, as if he was simply wondering how to approach her with what he had to say. Aubrey decided not to give him the chance to plunge into a subject she knew she didn't want to talk about.

"So… you read a lot?" Her voice was shaky, nervous, as she gestured to the shelves of books.

"No." He answered very simply and for some reason, the two boys in her dream flashed through her mind's eye. Creed shifted closer to her and she instinctively tried to move back, the sofa's arm pressing into the small of her back. Aubrey was ready to go overboard if he came any closer… he paid no attention to her reaction.

"How old are you?"

The question startled her. "Ummm… well, if yesterday was March eleventh, I would happen to be nineteen now." She shrugged.

Creed nodded, looking at her very intently. She felt herself starting to panic, wondering why he was asking-

"Where are you from?"

"I… w-why?" She stuttered.

The mutant narrowed his steal eyes, showing off his fangs with a deep, menacing growl that sent her into a frenzy of fear. "Answer."

"I was born in Austin, Texas, but I lived in a small city near there. I… moved a lot… when I got older." Aubrey remembered how her dearly beloved father had started to drink, turning slowly into a cruel, violent, mutant-hater… It had taken the psycho a year to break her mother, after which he started to toy with his daughter, torturing, beating, and insulting her…

Tears almost rose to he eyes and she fought back violently against those memories.

"Good." Creed said very softly, forcing her to focus her attention on him. His eyes were… amused was not the word for it… he seemed victorious, yet captivated. "Now that I've seen that you can answer me without lashing out stupidly, you are going to settle down and tell me what exactly made you who you are."

Aubrey opened her mouth, startled… and started to talk, unable to stop herself.

(0)

Haha! Cliffy! I am evil indeed.

Next chapter, the plot thickens, and I want you guys to note that NO, Victor will not stay a kind, gentle sissy in the future. He has his reasons for being like this in this part of the story and he'll make it his pleasure of explaining why in the next chapter.

In the meanwhile, review! I'M NOT ADDING A NEW CHAPTER UNTIL I HAVE 46 REVIEWS! Ha, because I can!

'Night.


	9. A past best forgotten

Oh my, God, close call! I was sure I had the H1N1 virus this weeks, cuz I got a HUGE cold, high fever and started coughing so bad I couldn't freaking breathe… then my immune system kicked in after 12 hours of suffering and the whole thing ended within the day… I'm odd.

Anyways, thank you all so much for reviewing, it's such a nice feeling to see that you all enjoy what I'm doing. If there's anything negative, btw, please post a comment as well, let me know what I should improve, whether in the story or in my writing style.

LAST but not least, this is IMPORTANT: I noted I made a mistake in the previous chapter. At the end, Aubrey recalls it being her stepfather that abused her, when it in reality was her father. I corrected the error but wanted to clear it up in case you guys got confused.

Here goes!

PS: Let's assume the year this story is happening in is 1975; it makes it easier for me!

(0)

Her eyes glazed over, as if she wasn't really aware of the world around her anymore. She didn't react to the loud cracks of the fire, or to the bright sunlight now shining on her face, nor Victor's heavy, intrigued look. The girl plunged into memories she hated, she kept trying to forget and that had never spoken of… yet now, they were flowing freely from her mouth like there was nothing to it…

"I was born in 1956, in Austin, Texas, like I told you. I was a nice baby; there was nothing wrong with me. I had loving parents, a mother and father who were ordinary people, holding good jobs in the small town where we resided. At least, everyone thought they were ordinary… I don't even know if my… father (the word came out with some difficulty, trembling of suppressed anger)… knew that my mother was… different, in the beginning.'

'I didn't know, at least, because she mostly hid her powers. Until today, I'm not quite sure exactly what it is she can do, nor the extent of her strength… but I remember very clearly the day my father found out."

Aubrey sighed deeply, closing those light brown eyes in pain. Creed smelled the saltiness of tears, but none dripped down her cheeks; the smart girl was strong enough to hold them in.

"She used to make her hands, just her hands, a scaly green that then could become any skin color she wanted them to. It made me laugh when I was a kid, to see my pale-toned mother with the hands of a black woman. She'd let me touch that new skin of hers, always talking in whispers, always when my father wasn't there… but one day, he came home early and he caught that little game of hers… I didn't laugh that day, when I saw him hitting her over and over, as she tried to hide those odd-colored hands of hers, unable to make them normal because she was too scared.'

'The words he used… I don't even think I could remember them if I wanted to, but they still tear me up inside. It was the turning point to everything. It was when everything I could have had was lost, when everything I could have become was ripped away… He switched from loving her to hating her in what could have been hours, treating her like an animal from that day on. Cuz back then, mutants were very unpopular, as they still are today, even though they are starting to be known as real by the public…'

'But back then, there was no bigger shame than to have a mutant in your family… and my dad had my mom, and he had me, the child of a monster…" Aubrey smiled sadly, looking down at her interlocked hands, sniffing. Her heart was bursting with anger and pain, Creed could smell it coming off her in waves… yet he did not move a muscle, still looking at her with curious eyes, ready for the rest.

Either way, she wasn't leaving her seat until she was done.

The girl took a deep breath. "My mother was a good little wife. She was always supposed to please her husband, and now that nothing she could do would ever please him, because she was _a beast_, she just took everything he threw her at her with her head down, suffering so I wouldn't have to. I can't bring myself to hate her for being weak… she knew nothing better… but she was indeed weak, and it took my father no more than a year to break her.'

'She just became a damn shell… I'd talk to her and get the feeling that she wasn't there with me, that she was far away, in a place where nothing could touch her anymore. She didn't even scream anymore when my father beat and cut her up… didn't move during the day, didn't sleep during the night… naturally, my _father_ got sick of her soon enough. He started to drink more and more, lost his job, lost his place in society, and started to take it out on me, even though I didn't have any damn powers, even though I was human… I was six years old when he started hitting me till I passed out, started to make me sleep outside when it was cold and rainy… throw empty bottles at my head… my mother didn't even lift a finger to help me… well, she reached out to me when my father was done beating, but he'd just look at her and she would step down, sitting down and getting that void look on her face… then, he'd tie me down and hit me more…"

Aubrey pressed cool palms to her face, feeling a headache coming up. An image flashed in her mind, like a bolt of lighting.

_(Boy tied with his hands up. Man screaming, hitting. Smell of whiskey.)_

She shook it off; not daring to look at Creed, although she knew his gaze hadn't left her for a second. The girl continued her story, watching the fire consume the big, darkened logs.

"I didn't go to school anymore, didn't go out. Anyways, I was so bruised I would have shocked anyone and I often had broken bones…"

(Leg broken because of a mace. The boy is crying. Alone. Won't cry when the man is there.)

Aubrey frowned. A new image had just passed in her mind's eyes. Why the male impersonation of what she had lived? Wait… her leg had never been broken… she shook her head again, looking up at Creed shyly. She noted that his eyes were suddenly very dark, terribly grave. But there was no pity in there… just… blind anger, and… pain?

She continued, blocking the mental images. "It went on for so long… I just wanted to die sometimes, but _he _kept telling me that it was much worst after I died… kept saying that _things_ like me end up in Hell and that I should be thankful that he was toughening me for when I would finish there. And I believed him… still do, sometimes…

"When I was ten, he started to meet with men who were trying to start an anti-mutant movement. Those were mostly scared, wicked and dangerous men… the worst kind. My father wanted to offer them something solid, something they could bash and spit on and since my mother was nothing but a shell, he offered them me. The deal was that they paid cash up front, for the days they wanted me and they could do whatever the Hell they pleased as long as I came back alive and without open fractures. And believe me, there are days when I think that death and fractures were the least of my worries back then…"

Now she was gritting her teeth, fists clenched hard enough for her broken nails to draw blood from her palms, eyes full of hateful tears. Creed watched her carefully, taking in the harsh, full smell of her fury and revulsion, seeing himself all too well in his own tortured past but at the same time, relishing what the girl had been through. While she despised that which had been done to her, he only wished to cause it others… an eye for an eye, while all the frail wanted was peace and death at last.

"One of those… men… tried to… (the smell of disgust coming from her skin was overwhelming… her whole body was showing such discomfort, such shame!) he- he fucking tried to rape me. I was eleven… a kid… and I damn nearly almost killed him! The wrong was done however; he took away what remained of my pride… and my father burned the skin between my legs when he learned what I had done… but no one ever managed to touch me again, damnit!"

If her anger had been fire, it would have burned away half the state by this time. Aubrey's eyes had gone black from the fury, tears falling onto her clenched fists… yet she didn't stop talking; her voice didn't even waver. "I don't remember those years, because I'm doing everything I can to forget them. There was nothing new from one 'business man' to another… just the same humiliation, the same pain, the same fear… how I hated them all!'

'Finally, about seven months ago, my father decided to sell me to the man you killed back in Vegas. Should thank you for that, by the way…" The girl looked up darkly, a cynical smile on her lips.

"Don't mention it. It's what I do best." Creed grinned back, showing fangs. Her tiny smirk slipped and she glanced out the window, lost in her thoughts.

"He treated me like shit and didn't give me anything to eat. At least my dad fed me and allowed me to shower once in a while. But that bastard just kept me locked in a back room like a damn box and showed me off to his little pals when they felt like beating on a mutant… I tried to run more than once, but prolonged starvation will get the strength out of you quickly enough… I was never fast enough to get anywhere, just fast enough to get caught and beaten half to death. At least the asshole never managed to get his dick up long enough to screw me… too bad, because _that_ would have given me the vigor to kill him." She sent Creed a long, meaningful look, trying to convince herself more than him… trying to hold on to the possibility that he wasn't immortal, try to punctuate her story with a wave of his fear…

"Too bad not all psychos can die." He answered with a smirk, crushing all her hope. She curled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her them and resting her chin on her knees. She was about to ask him where he was from, what was his story, but she remembered that she wasn't the boss around here (no matter what she wanted to believe) and that he would probably hit her if she started questioning.

Creed noticed her undecided look and tilted his head, still smirking.

"You get one question, frail." He told her in a gruff, hard tone to make sure she got the point.

Aubrey didn't even hesitate. "How old are you?"

He paused for a short moment to add to the tension. He could hear her heart hammering in her chest, fearful yet excited.

"Nearly a hundred fifty years old."

The girl gasped, honestly startled, her head snapping up. Whatever she had expected as an answer, that wasn't it. Creed got up slowly, savoring the alert terror that move caused her and casually added more logs to the fire.

Aubrey watched him move around in nothing but his sweatpants, watched those cut, powerful muscles rippling and tensing under that tan, flawless (immortal) skin and felt a wave of… damn, was that enjoyment? She'd never been around a man that was good-looking before, being used to old, flabby geezers, so seeing someone like Creed was very different… he was terribly frightening and dangerous, yet… so dark, mysterious, with his large shoulder, short hair and predatory gaze…

He sniffed the air momentarily and turned around suddenly, away from the fire, in a single move, that 'predatory gaze' falling right on her. Aubrey felt herself shrink under the animal, lustful grin he sent at her, knowing all too well why he was staring like that… ferals had excellent senses of smell and that wave of heat she had felt in her belly probably had a scent all too unique…

"I… I'll go shower…" She muttered, just to get away fro him, standing up on the sofa and jumping over its backrest as quickly as she would, speeding off towards the corridor. She immediately heard the rapid, quiet footsteps following speedily after her and she let a squeal escape her lips, panic grabbing at her insides. He was already behind her without the slightest effort.

Strong hands grabbed her wrists, spinning her around, pressing her to the wall…

"No… no…" Aubrey closed her eyes tightly, feeling Creed so close to her, his body almost touching hers, his breath warm and needful against her face… she was no feral, but she could almost smell how aroused he was, could only imagine his-

"You'll need towels if you're going to shower." Creed said softy, his voice perfectly even.

"Huh?" Aubrey's eyes spit open and she gazed at him, utterly confused. No emotion read on his face, except a vague amusement, as he reached in the closet next to them, pulling out two thick white towels… that he handed to her before stepping back very slowly.

The feral grinned. "There's a lock on the door to the master's bathroom. Take your time." And with a wink, he was headed back into the living room as if she didn't existed.

Aubrey just stood there for a moment, trying to gather herself. She finally stepped back and headed for the bathroom, unable to put ay sense into what had just happened.

(0)

She lathered her thick hair lengthily with shampoo, trying to relax under the warm jet of water. The girl was still tense from the way Creed had acted a few minutes ago, and she wasn't sure what to make of it… she tried vainly to switch her mind to other things, like those odd flashes of even odder memories that she kept seeing in her dreams and waking hours…

But all she could think about was Creed… the heat of his body, the smell of him… it didn't make her any more comfortable than to think about getting raped by one of the many psychos that had had crossed her path, but somehow, at least it was alluring in its own, dangerous, twisted way. Was it because she had just confided her life to him? Had her defenses fallen because of that fake feeling of confidence he instilled in her? Or was she just really insane this time?

Aubrey sighed, washing out her hair and filling it with conditioner in hopes of getting months' worth of knots out of the mane. The spacious shower was already full of vapor, its three glass walls blurred enough to make them opaque… she tried to understand what was wrong with her, how she could possibly start to find Creed handsome… attractive, damn! She'd heard once of the Stockholm syndrome… maybe this was it… but didn't it usually take a long time before it started to act up?

Before she could find an answer, she distinctively heard the doorknob turn, even over the noise of running water, ad the door swing open very slowly.

There had been a lock, but Aubrey hadn't used it.

Purposely or because she forgot, that she didn't know….

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Oh yes I just did! I'm evil beyond your wildest imaginations!

Alicia wants 52 reviews before next chappy hehehehe!

Might take me longer to get the next chapter up, I want it to be just perfect, so be patient and post al your comments to let me know how I'm doing!

POLL just for fun…

Q: What's your favorite dog breed?

Till next time, good evening and good nighte.


	10. Animal I have become

Hey guys, thank you so much for leaving your comments, they exceeded what I thought I'd have for this chapter! I won't let you down!

BTW, I'm writing a second, slightly less dark, but as insane story for X-men Origins, full of Team X goodness (and evil, evil Creed); it's called Perfect Soldier. It's situated before this story happens, and they might come twisted together into a sequel!

But shhhhh! That's a secret! Just go check it out and leave a comment!

And so many different dog breeds you people like! Kudos to all those who like mixes! I have one boxer/German shepherd mix (bright little thing!) and a rottweiler/something mix (stupid, huge beast), but I've got to admit I also love Dobermans, pitbulls and huskies. All dogs are great, but the smaller ones are usually more annoying…

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The door swung open soundlessly and Aubrey stopped moving, hands still tangled in her raven hair, eyes wide and whole body tense, ready for anything. A wave of cold, brutal fear hit her as she started to wonder what on earth Creed would do to her now… was there going to be more pain, more terror, more mental destruction?

She could only make out his dark shape through the fogged glass as he made his way slowly into the bathroom, his claws pressing to the shower's glass surface as he passed alongside it, drawing clear lines in the dripping vapor. The girl bit back the cry that was threatening to escape her lips, huddling against the far wall of the bath, back pressed to white ceramic tiles.

The shower was in the corner of the bathroom, with three glass walls forming a big half-circle around the tiled area and water sprays, allowing her to be nearly five feet away from Creed when he finally reached the door that would let him in there with her… maybe it was enough space to fight him back, slip by him…

'And go where?' Aubrey wondered. The outside was freezing, civilization was miles away, and she was stark naked with conditioner still dripping from her hair. She was once again a prisoner, this time with invisible chains, but a prisoner nonetheless… anger suddenly replaced fear.

His claws clicked against the door tauntingly and he pulled it open slowly, letting steam out and the cold in. Creed was still wearing his sweatpants, chest bare and smirking. Aubrey bared her teeth at him savagely, trying to cover her naked form with her hands and he responded with the same kind of face, only his was actually scary… long canines showing, so dangerous…

Creed let himself in, clothed like he was and shut them both in the shower. The water that started to soaking the bottom of his pants didn't seem to bother him whatsoever as he moved closer to her, a predator closing in on his pray. His eyes were shining hungrily, his claws were extended and all she could do was cringe farther against the cool wall, letting a meager growl slip by her lips. It only seemed to amuse him further.

"Leave me alone." Aubrey hissed, feeling tears rising up to her eyes. She fought them back bravely, trying not to focus on just how close she was to snapping to all this tension.

"Why should I? You're so damn intriguing, frail, so fun to watch as you fight and flee and try to go against your nature." He was standing inches from her now, the water running from the showerhead hitting his shoulders, slipping down his strong, powerful muscles and onto his pants… they became heavier as they soaked, riding down his hips just enough to leave little to the imagination … some of the water splashed onto her and every drop felt like an electric charge that went all the way to her soul. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her ears, it was just barely if she could hear anything else.

"My… nature?"

"Yes, your nature. You're fighting back against what you really want, what your body really wants." He placed both hands on either side of her, trapping her fully in the corner, forcing her to make herself as small as she could just so their skins wouldn't touch.

"I… don't know what you're talking about." Aubrey breathed to his face, which was a heartbeat away.

Creed let a long, heavy growl erupt from his throat as his mouth moved to the side of her neck, just below her earlobe, fangs simple millimeters from her jugular, ready to bite into that soft, hot skin… the girl shivered, her eyes closing…

"You know nothing about me." Her voice was barely a whisper now. She tried to ignore the proximity of their bodies, the heat irradiating off him, the warmth of his dangerous breath on her delicate throat… tried, but failed as a hungry heat spread through her whole body like fire, consuming everything. A whimper managed its way out of her mouth and she kept her eyes shut tightly.

"I know for one, little frail, that you're so damn used of being in control of yourself that you've forgotten how to let the animal in you out… for another thing, I can _smell_ how much it wants to get out…"

Her eyes split open and she turned her head, staring right into his steel gaze as she tried to focus on her anger, on her hate… ignore the longing that was poisoning her…

"There is _no_… animal in me. I'm not like you." The words seethed through clenched teeth as she tried to sound braver than she was.

Creed smirked. "Of course you're not like me. I'm worst." With that, he moved so quickly back to her neck that she didn't even have the time to react, and bit heavily into her gentle skin, hard enough to draw a good amount of blood.

Aubrey screamed this time; pulling her head back and grabbing his shoulders with both tiny hands, nail digging into the flesh. But the pain she felt awoke a new wave of pleasure, one so damn powerful it was impossible to ignore and he smelled the deep desire that exploded from her skin, felt her small body pressing against his, needful, desperate…

He removed his fangs from the wound suddenly, pulling back just a little bit and her body followed his, hungry, frantic, her mouth pressing to his lips angrily. One of his clawed hands crushed against her lower back, drawing droplets of blood from the puncture wounds he caused, pressing her against him and letting her feel just how aroused he was. Creed was fighting not to go berserk and just fuck her senseless without another thought, knowing how close she was to teetering back to terror and disgust, as his hard member became almost painful from the need to finally fill her, make her his…

He bit her lip, more gently this time, tasting her blood anew, and a moan got muffled in her mouth as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pulling herself up and wrapping both legs around his waist longingly. Creed growled and slammed her against the shower wall, running claws over her sides, her arms and her stomach. Aubrey groaned from the pain but responded immediately, twisting around a bit until she reached his soaked pants and made them at last fall to the ground. He kicked them aside carelessly, resuming their rough kiss.

The feral smelled a sudden change in her scent: a wave of aversion finally pierced through her lust and her body started to fight against him.

Instantly, he let her go, cutting off all contact and leaving her standing alone under the jet of water. The girl seemed confused for a moment; her eyes were wild and he could see the humanity inside her trying to take over, to take control…

Creed grinned animally at her, showing off his fangs and taking another step back. Her hungry eyes slipped down his muscular body, tracing him in lines of fire and when she saw his long, rock-hard member standing erect, a lustful groan escaped her parted lips instead of her usual shyness. He growled in response, inviting her to come and get him and she obeyed without thinking, nearly jumping onto him.

He slipped out of her grasp, quick and amused, dodging into another corner of the shower.

"Please…" Aubrey whimpered, turning to him and taking a step forward. He took one back, still grinning lustfully.

"Please what, frail?"

She seemed unsure of what to say, just for a moment, and her gaze dropped in submission.

"I… I _need_… you…"

Creed couldn't contain himself anymore. Too much was too damn much… she was soaking wet for him, her scent filling the room and driving him insane and he couldn't even bare to play his little game anymore… she needed him; that was more than enough.

He grabbed her around both upper arms, crushing her against the foggy, glass wall and ran teasing claws over her small breasts, grazing the hard nipples just enough to make her gasp and close her eyes. His cock was pressing to her thigh, the contact feeling like burning fire for both of them and he let his hands caress her whole body delicately but dangerously, going down, until he could grasp her legs and slowly pull them apart. She stifled a moan, resisting only for a couple seconds, before biting her lip and letting him do what he wanted.

Teasingly, tentatively, he ran finger on her swollen outer lips, retracting his claws so he wouldn't cause damage. Her back arched to allowed her hips closer to his hand and she opened her legs further still, moaning softly. Creed parted her wet folds gently, looking at her carefully, enjoying the desperate pleasure that read on her every feature. He wasn't used to a frail enjoying his touch, and it was a good experience that just mounted his desire more.

He found the sensitive nub of nerves hidden in her soaking sex and grazed it, causing her to inhale sharply, biting her lip. Her desire was thick now, the only things he could smell, and she was shivering against his touch, needful. Aubrey kept her eyes shut, but she could feel him kneeling down slowly in front of her, could feel his hot breath on her lower tummy…

'Oh, _God_…' Was the last coherent thought she had, before his warm mouth engulfed her sex, finding her tiny clit and teasing it with his tongue so perfectly that her lust rose to a painful level, erasing everything else as her body begged for release.

He played around with her sensitive nub, tasting her sweet juices on his tongue, loving the feel of her body bucking against him as her hands grasped his hair almost angrily. Her head was thrown back, mouth parted with gasps and moans escaping her lips. Creed let her pleasure rise almost to it's peak and felt the throb in his member become unbearable, before suddenly stopping, getting back up to his feet in a single, quick movement.

Aubrey looked at him at last, panting, her light eyes totally wild as he smirked.

Just to tease her further, he made to step back, to leave her like this, but she threw her arms around his neck ferociously and forced him against her.

"No…more…teasing." She growled in a rough voice, wrapping a small hand around his large manhood and drawing a pleased rumble from his chest. Creed grinned like a beast, hoisting her up so she could wrap her long legs around his waist and pressed her back to the wall.

His broad length brushed against her tight entrance and with a sharp thrust, he pushed himself into her. The girl couldn't fight back the scream of pain that escaped her lips as he thrust again, sheathing himself fully inside her. She struggled, trying to get away from him, from the hurt, but her grasped both her wrists in one hand and held them behind her back, forcing her to stay put.

Aubrey was writhing, teeth clenched as the fire burned in her sex, nearly unbearable. She hadn't been taken by a man in forever, so she wasn't used to any of this… and considering how large Creed's cock was, even if she'd been a adept, it still would have hurt…

The feral started to slowly move in and out of her, loving the feel of her tight muscles constricted around him, listening to her cries as they mixed in the hot air with his grunts and growls… the frail was so damn tense, this was hurting her more than it should… Creed decided to remedy to that, so he bit back down on the wound he had made to her neck earlier, tasting her blood anew.

The girl freed her wrists and planted her nails in his back, but responded with unnatural pleasure to the pain of the bite, wrapping her legs tighter around him still and finally relaxing enough to start following his thrusts in cadence. Her whole body was arched against his, a wave of pleasure building up in her sex as he fucked her more and more roughly.

Creed's growls became more dangerous and he held on to Aubrey's little body fiercely with his nails grazing and piercing her skin as he drove himself in and out of her. He let go of the bite on her neck and found her lips rapidly, nipping at those as well, feeling electrified by the taste of her warm blood.

The desire in her belly was growing to a painful level, reaching the climax point with every thrust he drove into her… and it overtook her quite suddenly… Aubrey pulled back her head, arching her whole body as much as she could and screamed her pleasure, as wave upon wav of it rushed through her every nerve…

"Victor!" She cried out as a shattering orgasm ran through her, but it was what drove him over the edge as well. He pushed himself fully into her, holding her in place with clawed hands as he came with a grunt, spurts of hot cum filling her for what seemed like an endless moment… his crushing desire eventually subsided slightly and she relaxed a little bit, her body giving in to the natural exhaustion that followed release.

Aubrey was panting though, her head resting against his shoulder, her legs still wrapped tensely around his waist… Creed stayed sheathed inside her, his length still twitching lustfully from time to time, drawing a moan from her lips on every occasion…

The two remained in that haze of pleasure for a long moment…

(0)

The second she closed her eyes and sighed, finally relaxing fully, her body gave into sleep. It had been far too many emotions for her to handle all at once and Creed figured it was better if she slept on it, either way. He was still hard and inside her tight, soaking sex, but that didn't seem to bother her…

The feral turned off the shower and stepped out of it with the frail still wrapped around him, carrying her, dripping wet, out of the bathroom and into his room.

He laid her on the bed and settled down beside her, wrapping the two of them in warm covers. He wasn't particularly tiered, but figured he could get some rest as well… besides, it wasn't as if he had anything to do… not while she was asleep, anyways…

"Told you there was an animal in there with you, frail…" He whispered to her ear.

Creed smirked. This would be a whole new level of fun once she'd come around.

(0)

There we go, the chapter you've all been waiting for!

How will she react when she wakes up and fully realizes what happened? Well, you'll find that out if I get over 62 reviews haha!

Tell me how I did and of course, if there's anything I should improve. This is honestly the first ever sex scene I write, _ever_… so I dunno how well I did.

AND DON'T FORGET; go read Perfect Soldier, my other X-men fic. It'll have the sexy Wade Wilson and the same Victor Creed you see here! And much, much more!

Review please!


	11. Rum & Memories

Hey people, I'm back and updating, I hope you didn't consider this as took long of a break. It's actually pretty damn hard to write two stories.

Just wanna say, please go answer my poll on my profile page. It's important. Thanks.

(0)

She slept for what seemed like an eternity, until night had fallen and the silent room had become pitch-black. But when Aubrey woke up, it was suddenly, with a jump and gasp that ripped her out of Creed's hold and made her fresh bite and claw wounds sting angrily. She immediately fought to steady her breath and panic, becoming still in fear of having awoken the feral… she glanced over at him, squinting in the darkness to make out his large form under the covers.

Creed has breathing softly, obviously still asleep, a low growl escaping his lips at every exhale. Aubrey found herself wondering for a moment what on earth she was doing in his bed, sleeping next to him… entirely naked…

Memories returned in a flash and she gasped again, clapping a hand over a horrified mouth. God, she'd… he had… they… she couldn't even place words on what had happened in the shower, couldn't even begin to understand what the hell had taken over her and made her desire him…

The feral growled angrily, suddenly and she stopped breathing, looking at him with worry. She noted his fangs were bared and his expression seemed tense, his clawed hands ripping at the sheets as they clenched furiously… he was having a really bad dream.

And the images that invaded her mind at that moment were not hers; she knew that for sure…

(0)

_Gunfire. Explosions. Planes flying overhead, shooting at anything that was moving._

_The runt, he was behind. Again. Fighting half-heartedly. Too many wars already… too much bloodshed._

_But_ he_ loved the wars. The fight. The fear he caused. Even through the blinding pain of bullet wounds and stabs. Through the horror of fallen comrades. This was his world, his anger._

_They would all die by his hands._

_He sunk his long claws in a young man's soft neck…_

(0)

Creed woke up with a roar, shredding anything he could reach. He felt delicate skin ripping beneath his deadly fingernails, felt blood trickle from fresh wounds, heard a pained scream as whatever he had hurt tried to get away. It took him a moment to take in his surroundings, to understand that he was still in his bedroom and not fighting one of those damned wars…

He saw Aubrey, who had fallen off the bed in an attempt to flee him, staring at him from the floor with wide, confused and frightened eyes. She wasn't moving, wasn't breathing from fear of getting hurt more, clutching at her upper arm desperately to stop the flow of blood. He blinked, lost for a moment, but gathered his bearings rapidly.

The feral got off the bed swiftly, throwing off the covers and finding himself as naked as she was. The girl obviously flinched at his approach, but did not move away, still looking at him with a very strange expression.

"Let me look at that." He ordered in a gruff voice, pushing her clenched hand off the wound. Creed uncovered four deep claw marks that were bleeding freely and sighed in annoyance. Damn frails and they weak skin… "Get up. Let's get that fixed."

He pulled her to her feet and when he saw her legs wouldn't carry her, he just scooped her up into his arms and carried her off into the bathroom. Setting the light at a low radiance that wouldn't aggravate his sleepy eyes, he got her to the counter and set her near the sink, rummaging through drawers to get to the emergency kit he kept for… well, emergencies…

Aubrey wasn't making a sound, keeping deadly silent even when he sprayed the cuts with rubbing alcohol and applied _a lot_ of pressure to stop the bleeding. The smell of the crimson liquid awoke an animal desire in him, but he pushed it down, knowing that she was probably still in shock from the sex (he tried not to smirk at the memory) they'd had earlier and at the attack she'd just received. It wasn't time to make her hate him.

Yet he couldn't help but eye the bite he'd given her and that she had enjoyed so much… it was on the left side of her neck, whilst the right side carried another bite on the shoulder, from when they had trekked through the storm to get here. That, and the many scratches and bruises she had earned only reminded him that she was _his_ now, and whether she liked it or not, she was aware of it too.

Creed ran a gentle, clawed finger over the wound on her neck, circling close to the painful tissues. The girl twitched, gasping softly in fear rather than in desire, and kept looking at him with odd eyes. He scowled.

"What's up with that look, frail? Haven't you seen me before?" He grinned wickedly when she looked down hastily, mumbling an excuse. He dug a claw into the bite unexpectedly, drawing a choked cry of pain from her lips. "Didn't quite catch that…"

"I said I was sorry." She nearly snarled, challenging now.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, until she unwillingly looked away. He removed the soaked compress from the gashes on her arm and slowly bandaged the cut. When it was done, he pulled her gently off the counter to carry her back to the room.

"You need to eat and have a good drink to calm your nerves, frail. And maybe some clothes, even though I like you better like you are now…" He growled softly, loving the smell of her embarrassment as it filled his senses. Aubrey was blushing a bright red by the time he settled her back on the bed…

Even though she was still aware that somehow, she'd seen his dream, which was most probably a memory of his and had lived his emotions during that moment without him knowing about it. And this had happened before… What was going on with her?

(0)

She ate a lot of food, realizing for the first time exactly how hungry she was. Her body seemed prone to keeping it all in this time, so she didn't bother with manners and wolfed down everything Creed set in front of her, curled in a ball at the dining room table, wearing, again, nothing but a big t-shirt.

It kept rubbing against her bite wound, but she managed to forget about that discomfort when her only need became to feed.

When she was done, sighing contently and feeling slightly drowsy, Creed opened the freezer and pulled out a big bottle of a light-brown, sunset-like liquid that he set in the center of the table with two small glasses, seating himself in front of her.

"What's that?" She asked curiously as he poured two full cups of the stuff and handed one to her. She sniffed it and cringed at the burning, strong scent, realizing it was some sort of alcohol.

He raised his eyebrows. "It's rum. I told you that you needed a good drink to calm your nerves…" He smelled his own glass, now grinning.

"But I… I've never drunk…rum. I've never drunk anything for that matter."

His grin only widened as he invited her for a toast. "Now's a good time as ever to start, frail." She clinked her glass to his and watched him down it in a single shot, no emotion passing over his face.

Aubrey decided to imitate him and tried to take the whole thing in with a single gulp. It went down like fire, chocking her and she coughed half of it back out, sputtering as it burned its way from her mouth to her stomach. She made several disgusted faces, drying the lines that had spilled from her lips with the sleeve of her shirt and setting the glass back down.

"It's horrible." She stated at last, clicking her tongue to get the taste out.

The feral grinned, pouring another, smaller amount into the cups. "It only gets better and better."

They toasted again and the next shot burned less and didn't spill at all.

(0)

The whole world seemed like it was moving too slow for her, like she was finally alive and everything else had decided to die. The night was no longer threatening, but suddenly inviting, soothing and protective… Creed was not as scary as he had been, but rather mysterious and dangerous in a terribly adventurous way.

She wanted adventure, all of a sudden, wanted to fly, to run, to be free… more than she had ever wanted and dreamed of all that… but with that feeling of liberty came the excruciating truth: her chains were now stronger than ever, because she was not just a prisoner… she was claimed, she was _his_.

About six drinks later, Aubrey got up from the dining room table and swayed, the room dancing around her suddenly. She wanted to go somewhere, but immediately forgot where. Creed was next to her in a flash, holding her in his arms and grinning… she understood, vaguely in her fogged mind, that the alcohol wasn't affecting him in the least.

But it didn't matter: she unexpectedly got lost in those steal eye of his, actually enjoying the warmth of his breath on her face as he pulled her up close to him, loving the feel of his powerful arms holding her like she was a feather…

"I- I don't know what came over me… in the shower… I shouldn't have given in… shouldn't have let that happen…" She slurred softly, trying to keep her voice even, even though she was starting to have trouble focusing on one thing without blinking several times.

Creed smirked, inches from her face. "You gave in because I was right… there is an animal side of you, one that woke up and got chained down along all the tortures you endured. You're not broken, frail, which I must say is amazing, but you aren't entirely human anymore. Then again, others wouldn't be human at all after what you've lived…"

She frowned. "What about what you lived? Is that what took your humanity away?"

Aubrey saw the flash of anger and pain in his eyes and suddenly tensed, ready to try and get away, sure that he would hit or maim her for that comment. But the feral seemed to contain himself this time, claws nonetheless dangerously extended against her back and neck when he spoke anew.

"And what do you know about what I lived?"

She gulped, realizing her mistake. _Stupid… you know that what you've seen were somehow memories of his childhood. Don't let him know you had sensed those…_

"I… I don't know, really… I just assumed. You're not like anything I've ever met before."

He smirked at that observation, satisfied, now carrying her towards the sofa. He set her down on it and turned to the fireplace to tend to the flames and add a few big logs into it. He spoke softly, with his back turned to her.

"About a year ago, I met a feral female who had pushed back her animal side even though it was a big part of her. She was broken and when… it managed to get free again, she became entirely different from who she was before she snapped. A different, new being… a terrible one. You can't hide your true nature. It always catches up to you and when it does, you're gonna wish you were the one that set it free."

His eyes caught her, flickering red from the burning fire and she saw, in her mind's eye, the face of a young woman with auburn hair and chocolate irises. Before that thought faded away, knowing it was one of his, Aubrey decided to wrap her clouded mind around it and pull it out some more… what if you was able to control his memory?

She succeeded.

(0)

Feral female, the scent of her! It drove his soul mad, made him want to rip the walls apart, to run through the night and day and to destroy everything on his path.

_He knew what was beneath that poised, controlled insanity of hers and he'd make it come out, damnit! _

_Fury. Desire. Freedom._

_Now. He needed to r-_

(0)

"-un… I need to run." Aubrey gasped, getting up with a jump on swaying legs. Desire was burning her very soul along with the need to evacuate it by sprinting endlessly across the world. She rushed to the front door, eyes wild and staring, pulled it open and stepped out into the cold night air, barely feeling the freezing burn of snow on her bare feet as she leapt out into the darkness.

She heard Creed following, but it only made her want to run more, be faster, be stronger… he was following, but not catching up, as if deliberately allowing her to storm through the powdery snow, oblivious to the chill, grabbing onto trees and branches as she dodged every obstacle and frikking flew across the forest.

Her breath was a cloud in front of her face and she suddenly stopped, in the middle of nowhere, finally feeling the icy snow that encircled her long legs and the devious wind that bit at her soft, naked skin.

Creed was immediately behind her, scooping her up roughly in his arms, turning her so he could see her face, pressing his lips harshly to hers… she felt him bite, felt her blood flow softly in her mouth and responded with a needful groan, managing to wrap her slender legs around his waist, feeling his hardness through the jeans he was wearing. Whether it was the alcohol or the longing his memories had transmitted to her, she did not know, but all of a sudden she wanted to be his, wanted him to claim her, make her _his _frail…

"Take me. Now." She growled when she got a second of air between one crushing kiss and another.

He pulled his head back and laughed. "You'd die from the cold, frail."

"Don't care."

With a lower, amused chuckle, he dashed off at amazing speed back towards the house, still carrying her and slicing slightly through her shirt to find the neck wound he'd caused earlier.

He bit down into it harshly and she moaned loudly in response.

(0)

Ho-Ho! What now? Is this her desiring him or has she just been contaminated by his memory?

This was your first preview of a possible sequel involving Perfect Soldier, but once again, I was to ask you all please go take the poll on my profile.__The decision hasn't been fully taken yet and events might chance, so I want to know what _you_ want.

Review please, I love your attention :P

'Evening and 'night.


	12. Falling

Yes, I know she'd become kinda too desiring of him, but go along with me. I plan wicked things, and everything's about to go downhill for the poor girl. :P

Thank you for reviewing guys, and thanks Sera22, I fully understand your point of view about not being able to make the right transition from Victor kidnapping her and suddenly wanting her to be his. I'm writing a book and another story with this one, so it's hard for me to kinda keep everything in track. Let's just say (which is what I wanted to convey) that Victor has had enough of just hunting down, raping and killing random women and wants for once to have one he can mess around with.

Messing around is coming right up!

(0)

He brought her back, still carrying her in his arms, his teeth still sunk in her neck, her nails still digging into his shoulders depserately. They entered the house with a bang from the door he pushed open and the lovely, powerful heat of the blazing fireplace hit them like a wall. Hit her like a wall… slammed right against her fogged, confused mind, almost bitch-slapping it back to consciousness…

_What the hell is going on?_ Aubrey suddenly asked herself, remembering how she had ran out of the house, bare-footed and crazed, into the snowy outdoors, how she had demanded that Creed make her… his (she shuddered), right there in the damn forest… she couldn't understand what had happened, why her emotion had overridden her so suddenly…

Creed threw her down onto the couch none too gently, getting on top of her immediately after and pinning her down by the shoulders. A hungry growl erupted from his chest as his eyes glittered manically and the girl felt vicious fear gripping at her insides… what had she done? Ever since the shower, where… okay, she'd admit that: where she'd actually wanted for a moment to give into that desire that the man had manipulated into her, ever since that, she'd done nothing but follow his game like a good little puppy. Whatever had possessed her, it was getting out now.

Aubrey suddenly growled right back at him, but angrily, in hopes of covering her terror.

"Get the hell off me." She snarled, struggling against his iron grip. The feral's claws extended and dug into her flesh, just enough to be menacing. He showed her his fangs, failing for only a split second to hide the surprise that flashed in the dept of his stormy eyes.

She realized he had expected her to be compliant, thinking he had won her over; had manipulated her into whatever sick scheme he had planned… but damnit, she hadn't been broken or plied in nearly fourteen years: she wasn't about to start.

Aubrey struggled for a moment, feeling his sharp nails cutting deeper into her skin. Creed had obviously not been ready for her to start fighting, because she managed to slide one of her legs up against his chest, pressing her toes just below his solar plexus, where she could feel a furious rumble brewing…

"I said: get. Off. Me." The girl hissed, pushing with all her strength against his broad torso. He grabbed her shoulders more roughly, but she slipped her second foot up to meet the first and managed to kicked him off after a long, pained heave, drawing long lines of blood that showed through her ripped shirt, from where his claws grazed over her skin.

But he was a feral, and he was much faster than she could ever hope to be. The girl didn't even have the time to struggle up to a sitting position that he was already looming over her, hiding the light from the fireplace with his body, making the whole damn room seem darker and scarier. Aubrey froze for a second, heart fluttering and his hand shot out to grab her around the neck in a vice grip. He lifted her off the couch and held her by the throat, cutting off all her air as she helplessly scratched at his hand, kicking aimlessly in hopes of hitting him.

He growled terribly, eyes dark and furious and she very suddenly fell still.

"What do you think, frail? That you're the one that's going to decide when and how I fuck and maim you?" He let out a small bark of a laugh that was empty of all humor and full of danger. "I've given you what you wanted back in the shower and almost right now because you've given into me like the good little pet you are. But you are _mine_. I decide what I do with my toys."

Aubrey was breathing in through her nose in tiny, choking gasps, biding her time. Their gazes crossed and her eyes narrowed with renewed fury as she opened her mouth to show angry teeth, like he would have showed his fangs.

"Fuck off." She snapped at that moment, suddenly exploding. Her whole body bucked with force he wasn't expecting and she let out an animal screech, twisting in his grasp, kicking away his second hand as if went forward to grasp her, pressing a foot against his hip and forcing him away. His claws slipped from around her throat, cutting her deeply enough to let a lot of blood out, but he finally let go as she fell down to the ground heavily and he almost landed in the fireplace.

The girl didn't waste a second, getting back up on staggering legs and jumping right over the sofa to run towards the kitchen. She saw it was hard for her to keep her balance and remain visually focused on an object and she realized she was probably still very drunk. That was probably why she went right for the knives on the counter, as if oblivious to the fact she couldn't hurt him without having him heal his wounds immediately after.

Creed followed her in animal pounces, roaring his fury so loudly the walls around them shook. But she was now armed; holding a butcher knife and another long, lean one in each hand, pointing them towards him, her back against the counter. Her eyes were alight with panic and she kept pushing back the obvious information that he couldn't die, because she was ready to do anything at this point to keep him at bay.

The feral stood feet away from her, poised for attack, fangs showing because of a smirk.

"Wasn't I obvious enough when I said you couldn't kill me, frail? You'd best accept you've lost and just give up." He encouraged, nonetheless following her every bristling move, ready for anything. Secretly, however, he was hoping she'd try something stupid: this would be no fun if she suddenly gave in, broke, and started to cry.

Aubrey was panting, her heart and mind racing, wondering what on earth she was going to do now. Face-to-face against him, she didn't stand a chance, because he was stronger, faster, deadlier… but she wasn't going to give up; she couldn't! Despair flooded her like a tidal wave and she fought back angry tears, knowing she had to keep her head clear, trying to ignore the throb in her neck and he blood that seeped through her wounds.

_Maybe I can mess with his memories…_ She thought suddenly, but realized she couldn't catch anything he might be remembering through the panic that was flooding her. _Even, so, I'd probably get pulled into his emotion and just go nuts again… I'm like a deer in headlights… shit…_

At that moment, he slid a foot in her direction soundlessly to get closer and she just threw caution to the winds.

She chucked the butcher knife in his direction and he dodged it easily because she had no idea how to throw weapons, but that movement caused him to drop his guard for a split second and she leapt, screaming, with the other knife in hand. It cut right into his upper arm, lodging itself in the muscles and the feral let out a monstrous roar of unexpected pain, hitting her as hard as he could in a reflex. The blow sent her flying into a wall, her head smashing against the hard surface with a sickening crunch. Pain exploded in her skull, her ears started to ring and she could feel her meager consciousness slipping, but fought hard to stay alert.

He was already standing in front of her, looming dangerously, pulling the knife out of his arm in an angry move that sent a grimace of fury and hurt through his face. She pushed herself off the wall in an attempt to slip by him, but his hand shot out like lightning and long claws caught her by he shoulder, forcing her back towards him.

Aubrey screamed from the pain, the fear and the confusion, thrashing to break free, but his nails just burrowed deeper into her painful tissues, eventually forcing her down to her knees next to him as she struggled to make him let go.

"God damn, it's hurting! Let me go!" She snarled, refusing to beg. His second hand, all claws out, grabbed her other shoulder and hurt it in the same way. The stinging needles of pain that were now coursing through her whole body were almost enough to make her plead for her freedom, as he stood right behind her, a cold smirk on his animal face.

"Beg for it, frail." He whispered softly.

_Not a chance in hell._ She thought furiously, grimacing and clenching her jaw shut with so much force it was starting to get sore. But then, she spotted the long knife lying just nearby, within reach if she could get her shoulders free.

Aubrey knew what she had to do.

"P-Please, let go. Enough…"The chocked sob she let out didn't even have to be faked; it came all too naturally. They remained that way for a long moment and then, slowly, she felt the feral's claws recede from her shoulders. It was as painful as when they had gone in, but she bit back her cry of pain and let only a sigh of relief slip by her lips.

As soon as his hands were off her back, she didn't waste a second, didn't even give him the chance to place a witty, cruel reply and plunged for the knife, wrapping a trembling hand around it.

Creed was so surprised at what she did that he failed to dodge the blade that she planted with full force into his thigh, drawing a new roar of pain from his mouth. It went in all the way and came back out the other end, slicing through tender tendons, muscles and arteries…

Aubrey staggered up and fled like a rabbit, brutal terror giving her wings like nothing else could. They'd left the door open on the way in, thankfully, because in her current state, she wouldn't have been able to get it open without wasting precious seconds. She was out into the freezing night in milliseconds, again, as oblivious to the cold as she had been on her first run, just minutes ago, still hearing his bellowing angrily in the kitchen.

The feral got the blade out with a grunt and followed her, tripping on his first few steps as the wound took a little time to heal. But it didn't matter, he would catch up, because he knew that forest like the back of his hand and after all, he was a dangerous hunter.

_The frail is going to get it_. He thought, feeling amused yet furious at getting played so easily, as he followed her tiny footsteps out into the howling wind.

Aubrey tried not to trip, tried to ignore the branches that were hitting her face, tried to ignore Creed, who she could hear coming closer and closer with every passing second. He wasn't letting her run, this time, he was doing everything he could to catch her and she stole a glance over she shoulder, wondering where he was…

The trees around her suddenly vanished and before she could even wonder why, the foot she set out in front of her met emptiness…

She looked down, horrified, and realized she had run all the way to the edge of a long, steep cliff that marked the brutal end of the mountain and that there was nothing a quarter a mile below but snow-covered stones that stood towards the sky like jagged teeth. Aubrey screamed, going down and had a final thought before she met the hard ground with a bone-crushing blow.

At least he wasn't the one to break me…

The dark, cold arms of death seized her and there was nothing else.

(0)

Oooo major cliffie… will I do a Shakespeare and kill my main character? Or will I just cruelly keep her alive in more torture than she should be able to endure?

I hope you liked the turn this chapter took, please review it my friends!

He


	13. Dead or alive

Here goes. I hope you enjoy & once again, thanks a zillion for reading!

(0)

_Darkness, gentle darkness. There is no pain, no fear, no misery._

_She can almost remember there was something before this… something important, powerful, terrible… there was something other than silent emptiness…_

'

_But does it matter? It seems that whatever was before was no good… she can recall wanting to abandon all that…_

_Time… time is a notion she can still evoke and she knows it is flying by… how fast, she does no know, however…_

_There is nothing but darkness._

(0)

_Lights and images pierce nothingness._

_A woman with kind eyes (those eyes will be empty someday), she changes the color of her skin and it is amusing… extraordinary…_

_Man of anger, he shouts and breaks things… his hands move like lightening and strike with force… there is pain, there is fear, there is misery…_

_So many humans, all staring, laughing, hitting, like she is inhumane… she can feel fury boiling in her heart, threatening to break through everything, shred this world to less than the naught it is…_

_Male feral, dangerous, with eyes of steal and a heart of ice… he knows how to play with her, knows where his blows will hit the hardest…_

"ENOUGH"_ Her voice does not echo when she screams. It simply stops everything._

_Those are her memories and she knows it. She has seen them too often. But now she understands._

_She can control them._

(0)

Aubrey groaned, the light behind her closed eyelids already too much to bear. The gentle feeling of the void she had just left still lingered in her heart, but now pain was starting to make itself terribly present.

Every breath she took sent shots of needles through her whole nervous system, unbearable; her legs were numb, but she could feel the warm air of the room pressing against open wounds like so many knives and every single millimeter of her was a throbbing mass of hurtful shivers, like every single muscle and bone in her body had been thorn at by wild animals. A crushing migraine was pressing to her skull and jaw, notifying her that a single move of her mouth would send her into screaming agony.

For a long moment, she fought to acknowledge and then ignore the pain, but it was an impossible feat to accomplish… too much was hurt…

"Didn't take you too long to come around." A hard, playful voice purred just inches from her.

A chocked sob escaped her lips, as she understood who was talking, bringing on a fresh sting to her chest and tears leaked out of her closed eyes. Aubrey shivered, unable to hold back the wave of hysterical terror that overtook her very soul and she found herself wishing very desperately to be dead, once and for all…

She heard Creed move closer, quietly, and figured he had to be kneeling next to her now, as she could feel his hot breath on her neck.

"End… it…" She gasped, sobbing softly at the pain in her lungs and jaw and the horror in her heart. She wanted to clench her fists in anger, but the few fingers that responded only made her realize that they were broken too…

He chuckled softly. "We went through this, frail. It's a damn miracle you're still alive and I plan on keeping you that way. I'm not done with you."

Aubrey let a strangled scream out, but it only lasted a fraction of a second. She caught the flash of a memory and understood at once that it wasn't one of hers…

"I'm not done with you." Cruelty, hate and amusement… the man, he smells of whiskey and piss and blood… not his own blood…

_MY blood…_

_Fury… fear…_

_When will it end?_

The emotions of those few imaged gripped at her heart, but she captured the memory, suddenly knowing how it worked, how it was to be controlled… she could easily use it, make it invade Creed's mind and force him to back off, to wallow in his past… but Aubrey knew that if he found out what she could do, he would end her life in a matter of seconds…

And a renewed wave of survival instincts had just kicked in, forcing her to admit that she wanted to live, wanted to break free, even though she could not do it now because she was in no condition to flee this feral…

If she survived long enough to heal, she would be able to win against him.

She was going to be the end of him.

(0)

He proposed to inject her with a shot of morphine, God knows where he got it from, and she did not refuse, quite sure that he wouldn't bother hurting her physically any more than she already was and certain that he could cause no psychological damage while she was stoned… Creed briefly explained that she had several broken ribs and an open fracture on one leg, while the other was severally cut because of a jagged rock on which she had fallen. Most of her fingers were broken, as she had suspected, and she'd suffered from a concussion, but her arms had only been superficially wounded and bruised… the feral man assured her that his long life and experience in the army guaranteed he'd be able to care for the wounds even if (he said it with too much amusement for her taste) she'd probably have scars…

Aubrey opened her eyes, blinded by the faint light of the fireplace in the living room, feeling her migraine grow… the pain subsided rapidly as she watched him carefully inject a needle-full of painkillers in her arm, noting the dark blue bruises that covered almost ninety per cent of her body. He had placed her, half-naked, on the couch where he could examine and tend to her…

The world of morphine-induced euphoria was not at all like the quiet, empty nothingness she had just vacated, but somehow she knew it was probably best she did not return to that place, lest she die for real this time.

She could still see Creed, all along, but he appeared kind of blurry and she mostly forgot he was even there, forgot where she was and why she'd been so scared and angry just moments ago… her jaw felt odd when she mumbled random things that shot through her fogged mind, like it wasn't working properly and she wondered briefly if it was because of the drug…

Didn't matter. The fire was drawing funny forms on the high ceiling and the man caring for her wounds smelled quite nice… what was his name again? She couldn't get him into focus. Somehow, she could remember he was dangerous, kind of like 'the enemy'.

Didn't matter.

The soft pull of sleep forced her into a strange, yet wonderful world.

(0)

The pain was back, of course it was. But it was lesser and at times, vanished just long enough for her to grab a bite to eat, even if she sometimes didn't keep it all in.

Creed had moved her to that one room she hadn't explored in the house, one at the end of the corridor, which proved to hold a single bed and desk with a laptop on it. Seemed to serve as a guest room/ office, even though Aubrey couldn't picture the feral having company over for the night or chatting with pals in his alone time on the computer.

She slept a lot, more out of boredom than actual need, because in the first few days, Creed only visited her when it was time to eat or get washed a little. She had a lot more nightmares than actual dreams, often waking up in cold sweat covering her wounded body and screams escaping her gaping mouth. He'd come to her then and strangely enough, comforted her with soft strokes through her hair… that was worst to endure than pain and fear, because she always cringed, wondering what twisted plans he had in mind…

The rest of the time, he was obviously out because he smelled like snow and trees and hunting when he came to see how she was doing. He did not tease, did not taunt and did not hurt her. Aubrey was scared beyond what she had ever been.

But when he did come and she was fully conscious, she always took a moment to raffle through his memories. Quickly enough, she understood that they worked a lot like badly classified folders and that one image of the past often led her straight to another in a different timeline that could relate… Aubrey was always careful to only play with the memories that awoke very few emotions, not only because she felt they could sweep her away, but because she knew that she'd stay undetected, raising no suspicion.

After a few lonely days, she finally asked him if he could bring her a book. Creed seemed surprised, but only for a split second and immediately hid his astonishment, wanting to know what she'd like to have. Since she couldn't read that well (her lessons in childhood had always been sparse), Aubrey answered that she'd want to have an easy one. He brought her The Little Prince, by a man named St-Exupery and she started the lecture with a lot of enthusiasm, finally happy to have something else to do than worry what the feral had planned for her.

It proved to be trickier to turn the pages than to understand the text, since all her fingers were broken except for her thumbs and the muscles in her arms burned like fire whenever she moved them. But she read nonetheless.

Something in that story made her feel nostalgic. The way the main character decided to leave his home in hopes of finding adventure reminded her of when she'd dreamed, ages ago it seemed, to flee from her horrible father and broken mother to start a fresh, new life for herself… but she'd been so young and even if she would have managed to escape, she would have died in the real world like a nameless soul. Aubrey found hat tears rose to her eyes at that thought.

Creed remained distant for over three weeks, nearly ignoring her when he brought her sustenance and she started to feel so lonely… it was a feeling she had never had, even when she was abandoned by all and hated by even more… this man, this _feral_, he had indeed toyed with her mind and body, but he was caring for her like no one ever had. It seemed that the more her bruises healed, the more reckless she got…

She decided to try and talk to him, one evening, when he brought her supper, setting it on the end table next to her bed and heading back towards the entrance without a word.

"Why… why are you doing this?" Aubrey stuttered, clenching at her sheets with stiff fingers, nervously wondering if she'd done a mistake by stopping him from leaving. He froze right at the door, his huge frame suddenly a lot more menacing in the soft light, which seemed to dim altogether….

He moved so damn fast she barely had the time to squeak and cringe that he was already inches from her face, arms and legs on either side of her, his body too damn close for comfort… he growled lowly and she dared to glance up at his face tensely, noting the chilling grin he had on to go with his amused eyes.

"Don't ask stupid questions."

Aubrey swallowed heavily, barely breathing. "Or what?" Why oh why was she unable to shut the hell up?

Again, he moved forward in a blur, fangs snapping at her jaw line, missing it intentionally by millimeters and she bit back the cry of fear that threatened to burst out of her. Her neck hurt from the way she held it, trying to bring herself as far out of the reach of his deadly fangs as she could, attempting to ignore the rest of her wounded body as it protested at this sudden movement.

"If you really want to know…" He whispered as he nipped at the skin covering her jawbone, drawing a few pearls of blood that he licked hungrily, while she fought against a scream. "You're not healed enough to survive what I've got planned."

And with that he was gone in a heartbeat, nothing but a shadow with flashing eyes that glanced at her, dangerously amused, one last time from the dark corridor.

(0)

The next morning, he moved her carefully while she was still half-asleep, bringing her into the living room and settling her comfortably into one of the huge sofas, along with her book and a warm cover. Then, he disappeared into the guest room and she figured he was probably changing the sheets, which were much in need of washing from the freezing sweat that had soaked her whole body after this night's horrible dreams. She couldn't remember then, but they brought terror back to her heart with ease.

Later, still in the sofa, she woke long enough to note that Creed was pulling on his boots and going out. She was exhausted from the nightmares that had plagued her, so she fell back into darkness even though the sunlight from the outside world was shining right onto her face… it was warm and reassuring…

What seemed like an eternity after that, she heard the front door open and two sets of feet walking in… the comfort of fading light's heat and the nearby flames in the fireplace prevented her from waking up entirely, but she could still hear the voices nearby…

"My, my, my, Creed… what did you do to her to put her in that state?" An amused man asked softly.

"She fell off a cliff. Here, Zero, these are the informations Stryker wanted. Bring them to him and let him know I'm just itching for something to do."

The other man chuckled. "Seems like you've already got a lot to do with this one on your hands… why isn't she dead yet? Seems like you're getting a soft spot, Creed…"

There was a low growl. "It's none of your damn business. I don't want to see you here again, Zero, that'd better be clear. The only reason you came to fetch these files yourself is because I've been… busy…"

The man named Zero scoffed. "Yeah… 'busy'… as long as she doesn't make you turn into a loving puppy, none of us care who you screw in your free time." Creed snarled so dangerous that Aubrey finally snapped awake, cringing. She kept her eyes shut. "Okay, okay. I'm leaving. Stryker wants to let you know he'll be contacting you in a couple weeks probably. There's going to be work to do soon."

The door opened and closed again and she knew the other man was gone. Immediately, she felt a presence loom over her and she opened her eyes slowly, frightened, fingers twitching nervously in their bandages. Creed was looking down at her with a face impossible to read.

"You could have asked for his help. Screamed for him to save you." He stated bluntly.

Aubrey shrugged, the move drawing a gasp of pain from her as her ribs reminded her that they were broken. "Whoever he was, he was obviously a friend of yours. Probably agrees with you on the way your torture innocent people." She all but snarled.

Creed smirked. "Smart frail." His hand shot out, grasping her by the neck, but not roughly… he simply held her head in place as he crouched down and moved to be again just inches from her eyes. "Don't be too smart, because my patience is running low… I'm really… _tense_ at the moment, if you get what I mean."

She blushed furiously at that comment, eyes avoiding his like a plague and he smirked at her reaction.

"You get what I mean."

With that, he rose and walked away and Aubrey suddenly realized it wouldn't be long before the… tension in him swelled to the point when it would need to be released. And with a shiver that ran through her spine, she knew exactly who'd be releasing it…

(0)

Okay, I'm tiered and I run out of ideas here. But next chapter promises to be… releasing… mwhahahaha! More darkness on the way, people and more reviews makes me write faster!!!

And for those who vote 'no' to my profile poll, let me know why.

'Night yall!


	14. Healed?

Thank you all for reviewing and adding this story to you favorite and alert lists. You guys rock!

I hope this chapter will be good, because I kind of lack inspiration at the moment since I'm really exhausted from working a lot. But the holidays are under way and things should be calmer around that time, so I'll have time to think about the story more.

(0)

How long had it been since she'd last seen Creed? Perhaps just a little over a day, but he'd been again so distant for the past two weeks that it was as if he'd just been gone for an hour. Since the day the unknown man had come over to fetch some files from the feral, he'd been out more and more often, returning most of the time covered in blood (she was hoping it wasn't human) and barely talking to her.

Aubrey had finished The Little Prince and was starting to take up other short books to pass the time while she was being elegantly ignored by Creed. It was kind of pissing her off, because since he'd been gone for long, she hadn't had anything to eat and was positively starving at the moment.

The girl was quite content at seeing that she was slowly gaining weight, some curves finally appearing over her jutting bones and her strength retuning gradually. However, with all that her appetite had returned the terrible feeling of regular huger and ignoring it was becoming excruciatingly hard as a hollow pain filled her belly and ordered her to get her ass to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat.

"It's not that I don't want to…" She sighed, patting her tummy softly. It responded with an angry growl and she sighed again, knowing that after over six weeks of doing nothing but healing in that bed of hers, she was more than ready to start walking again: Aubrey could feel that her fingers were painless, probably already nicely mended back and as she breathed, only tiny jolts of occasional pain still shot through her ribs. As for her legs, the one that was broken still throbbed slightly at times, while the one that had been deeply cut was surely completely recovered, as Creed had been careful to change her bandages often to avoid infection after stitching the cut together.

Honestly, if it were up to her, she'd already be at the dining room table, devouring a sandwich or something. However, she was not a stupid girl and she clearly remembered Creed's menace of unknown pain he had planned for her once she healed up nicely… and she wasn't about to give him a reason to start maiming her because he walked in and found her rummaging in his fridge.

Aubrey growled in unison with her belly, violently closing the book that had been sitting open on her lap and setting aside to her bed table. As much as she wanted to stay a good little girl and avoid unnecessary pain, she had to admit that she was starved… and food was so close by… she could just made it there and back quickly and Creed would never even know…

"Screw this. He's not the boss of me." She finally snarled, biting her lip nonetheless in hidden worry. She threw the covers of herself and slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Aubrey gasped softly when the cool wood floor came in contact with her bare feet as she slowly and gingerly put some weight on her unused legs.

The one that had been broken was throbbing powerfully from dull pain, so she transferred most of her body weight to the one that had been simply wounded. She was able to stand, after a few minutes of groaning and shifting, on both her own feet without any support. With a slight limp, she took a few steps forward, inching towards the door that would lead her out of the room.

It was hard to turn the door knob with her two, bandaged hands, but she managed to get it open after a few tries and shuffled out into the corridor, where she used one of the side walls to help her walk faster. Her ribs were kind of sore, the level of pain rising and falling with the breaths she took, but she could tell that they were almost fully healed. The joy she felt at that realization, along with the happiness of being able to walk on her own shaky legs after weeks of lying down, almost drowned out the hunger rumbling her belly.

But by the time she reached the living room, she remembered quite well why she was out of bed on her own and limped all the way to the kitchen's refrigerator with a smug grin on her face. She pulled the door open and grabbed the first thing that her eyes fell on: an apple. Aubrey knew very well that Creed didn't eat fruits on a daily basis and that this had been bought for her, so she felt her own guilt dissipating as she sunk her teeth into the food hungrily, nearly devouring it. The apple was gone in a matter of second and she reached into the pantry this time, getting a hold of a muffin that she huddled against her chest with a bandaged hand, limping her way to the living room.

The sun was shining brightly from the outdoor, nearly blinding as it bounced off the thick layer of snow outside to amplify its brilliance. Aubrey looked out beyond the window and noted that drops of water were regularly leaking off the branches and house's roof, showing that the snow was melting away.

"Awesome!" She grinned, chomping down on the muffin eagerly, her bright mood elevating her above her usual fear and anger. If she calculated things right, they were probably at the beginning of the month of May, which meant that by the time she was fully healed, most of the snow will have melted away and her escape from this hellhole would be much easier to accomplish.

"What's so awesome?" A voice behind her purred, amused.

The girl spun around with a gasp, dropping the muffin she had been eating on the floor and grabbing onto the fireplace to avoid falling, as her sudden movement had thrown her off balance. She stared right at Creed, who was standing behind the couch as if he'd been there since she first entered the room… had he really, or had he just snuck in?

"Nothing!" Aubrey answered all too quickly and, afraid of raising suspicion, she continued talking rapidly. "Do you always have to make people jump like that? Can't you just announce your presence gently by like… oh, I don't know… clearing your throat or something?"

He stared at her impassibly and she swallowed heavily, fear nearly strangling her at this point. Simultaneously, she was afraid he'd figure out she wanted to run and that he would kill her for being too much of an annoying burden. Neither was an option she wanted to face.

Creed took a heavy step towards her, circling the couch. "Since you're up and running your mouth again, maybe its time we take off you bandages and declare you… (he stopped mere inches from her, towering and terrible) fully recovered."

Aubrey tried not to cringe and keep a poker face on, but she was unable to control the fear that crippled her very soul. And by the way he sniffed the air slowly and smirked, she could tell he was aware of her terror. At this point, all her instincts were ordering her to run like the freaking wind while in her mind, she knew that if she moved, she was dead.

Before she could make up her mind, he grabbed her roughly around the arm, causing her to squeak softly from the pain that his grip caused and pulled her after him as he walked to the corridor.

The girl limped pitifully after the feral, trying not to stumble too much and could hear her heart beating like a hummingbird's wings inside her chest. Panic was flooding her being as he dragged her after him to his bedroom and then to the master bathroom, where he turned to face her suddenly.

"Clothes off. Now." His voice was far too hungry for her liking, and the wilderness that shone in his eyes was simply terrifying.

She shivered, clenching at the large shirt she wore, knowing it was the only thing that separated him from her, as she wasn't even wearing panties under it. Aubrey wasn't stupid enough to deny him what he demanded, so she slowly, painstakingly pulled the garment up and over her head, wishing she could just vanish into thin air.

It was no just the humiliation that was maiming her, (she'd been used to that over the years, with all the bastards that tried to destroy her) it was the intense feeling of fear that crushed her as she knew that Creed was not going to hold himself back this time and she had absolutely no chance of winning against him. Then again, she had her memory power to use against him…

For just a second, Aubrey felt her spirits rise as she realized she could push him back with her newfound power and run for it… but then the dull pain in her weak muscles and still-broken leg brought her back to reality and she knew that if she gave away her only weapon right now, she wouldn't later have the element of surprise that she needed in order to escape the feral…

He moved towards her, silently, fluid like a predator, running a clawed hand slowly over her naked body. Where his nails passed, long, bright lines of red appeared as blood pearled out from under her flesh. The girl shivered and fought to stay immobile, hoping that her resignation would make it easier…

Creed smirked, showing off his fangs and grasped her with one large hand in the small of her back, bringing her closer to him, using his remaining free claws to slice deftly through the bandages that covered her fingers and the old wound on her leg. The girl didn't even dare to breathe as she slowly wiggled her free fingers, checking that they were painless and healed… apart from being numb and feeble, they were fine…

"Well?" He purred into her ear, crushing her trembling body against his so hard it was painful. "Aren't you going to try and get away? Don't make this too easy for me, frail…"

Aubrey couldn't help it; she growled right back at him, furious beneath her fear.

Creed moved so damn fast she didn't record it until it was too late, until he slammed her full force into the wall behind them, hand around her neck, all claws extended… she felt her delicate ribs crack from the shock as her head bashed against the rough surface, sending her into a confused frenzy… the girl grasped helplessly at the feral's arm, nail digging into his skin until they drew blood from wounds that healed immediately, coughing and suffocating in his grasp.

"Let… go…" She gasped desperately, dark spots appearing in her receding vision as she felt herself slip from consciousness. She could still see him smirking, fangs out, dangerously victorious. The feral wasn't going to let her take the easy road this time… she could see in his terribly dark gaze that this time, it was going to hurt.

And if it was going to hurt, Aubrey wasn't about to take it without at least fighting back.

She brought both legs up with a monumental effort, the still-broken one throbbing terribly from the pain and kicked them simultaneously against his stomach. Creed groaned, doubling over, but his grip around her neck remained unbroken. They tumbled both to the ground and he brought himself atop of her, pinning her to the cold bathroom floor with powerful arms as she flailed angrily, trying to thrash her way out of his grasp.

Creed was holding her tightly with both legs and she was going nowhere… Aubrey felt her way rapidly around herself with her only free arm, breathing in choked, desperate sobs as her fogged brain tried to figure a way to escape. She touched the edges of a smooth, glass bottle that must have fallen along with them from the skin or tub and grasped with her remaining strength, bashing it as hard as she could against the feral's head.

Victor snarled, groaning from the pain and sudden fury that had awoken in him. His clawed hand finally let go of the frail's neck as he tried to remove a couple pieces of glass that had broken into the skin on his head like shrapnel and she used those seconds of distraction to wiggle out from under him, brushing all too often against his body for him to ignore that this was turning him on. It had been a long time since he'd taken a frail, considering that he hadn't left the girl for more than a day at a time for the past month and a half… desire was itching in him and it only spiked when he saw the pretty little thing crawling away on all fours as fast as she could to get away from him…

He swiped a hand at her, grabbing onto an ankle and she turned around briskly with an actual roar of anger. It was that sound, escaping her lips loudly enough to tear a hole in her soul, more than the following kick that made him let go. For a brief second, he saw those fiery eyes of hers as they flashed at him, full of terror and bitter loathing… he knew at that moment that he _needed_ to break that fury; _he needed_ to watch her shatter into pieces as he claimed her as his own.

The one no one had managed to bring down… he was going to destroy her.

Victor pounced after her but she had already ran out of the room and was standing near the door, slamming it shut right in is face as he made to follow her. It didn't matter; with just a ram of his shoulder, the whole thing went flying in a rain of wooden shards that went soaring directly at Aubrey's retreating back in the master bedroom. She didn't even glance over her shoulder, entirely focused on rapidly limping her way out of the place and beyond the feral's reach.

However, no matter how determined she was, Creed was a lot faster than a wounded and terrified teenage girl. She inadvertently found herself near the large bed in the center of the room and it was at that moment that the feral decided to pounced onto his fleeing prey, knocking her down on the mattress like a limp doll. Aubrey gasped from the pain that shot through her whole body, from her sensible ribs and her broken leg to the deep claw marks that shone with blood on her neck. She fought to regain her balance on the bed, but it was so damn hard with all her limbs refusing to cooperate… the feral leapt onto her with menace and grace, turning her onto her back with a flick of his hand, pinning her pained thighs under his knees and holding both her wrists above her head with a single arm. He bared his fangs in a long, deep growl and she stopped struggling just for a second.

Aubrey couldn't even support his gaze… it was so damn scary, so dark and full of promises of pain… there was no pity, no humanity in those steal-cold irises, just a beast hungry to be let out to claim her as it's own… she shivered at that thought and tears welled up in her eyes as she closed them and gritted her teeth.

"You are mine." Creed growled hungrily, his fangs inches from her lips.

The girl shut her eyes tighter still, tears finally spilling out and running down her cheeks in long, salty streaks. She kept her jaw clenched shut and with an angry snarl, the feral crushed his mouth against hers forcefully, biting down into her lips so damn hard she found herself screaming against him, blood gushing down her chin in thick pearls. She held back a terrified, hateful sob, her own fists clenched so tightly she was making her palms bleed…

_Female feral. He can smell her wilderness. Her dangerous desire, her power. He wants it. It is his… but she runs…_

_From him, from herself… HE WANTS HER._

The longing that burst out of him with that terribly powerful yet brief memory invaded her like a poison… it almost erased everything else, almost sent her over the edge like it had last time… IT WAS NOT HER MEMORY, NOT HER DESIRE DAMNIT!

Aubrey pushed against him as hard as she could, arching her back, screaming her fury in hopes it would overtake the emotions that forced themselves into her soul… all she succeeded in doing was again pressing her naked body against the hardness in his pants… her eyes flew open and crossed his.

"Mine." Creed smirked.

"Screw. You."

His irises flashed. "With pleasure."

Creed had his pants off in a flash and was pressing his manhood against her tight opening as she froze, terrified of _everything_ at this point.

He pushed himself into her roughly, in a single move that made her pull her head back and scream as fire invaded her sex and tummy, as pain reached an altogether unbearable level and she twisted her body desperately to get away from it.

But he held her in place, ramming himself into her over and over again with animal growls, his fangs slicing once again into her lips, drawing lines of red with his claws all over her body, trailing his deadly kiss over her cheek, to her jawbone, onto the scars on her shoulders…

Aubrey couldn't even feel the blood running from her wounds, the aching throb in her leg, the fire consuming her whole body as the feral raped her with incredible fury and desire.

She was just eternally grateful when soothing darkness finally claimed her and the only thing that followed her into oblivion was Creed's roar of release.

(0)

Later, much later, she awoke slowly in the man's arms, cradled as though he was consoling her after she'd woken from a nightmare, his claws running gently through her wild mane of hair… she could feel dry blood caked all over her mouth and thighs and the dull ache of fabric pressing against the open, broken wound on her leg, her bandage lying forgotten somewhere in the bed.

Creed sighed. "We'll have to fix that broken leg again, frail. Looks like you weren't entirely ready to be declared as healed."

Aubrey felt tears running down her cheeks and this time, she didn't stop them from falling and drawing clear lines in the blood on her face. "You're insane." She whispered, shaking from a dry sob.

The feral chuckled.

"And you're mine. But it can take time to realize those things, sometimes…"

(0)

That's it for now, folks! (I feel like a Bugs Bunny tv-show). I hope you like it, because it might be a little while before I update again, seeing as I'm working two jobs (14h a day) for the moment. I'm tiered and slightly delirious.

Perfect soldier and Clockwork will come together in a sequel, so read both of them. I decided that it would be awesome, so that's that.

Good night yall and happy holidays.


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